The lecture hall felt different that afternoon.
Not louder. Not quieter. Sharper.
Jay noticed it the moment he stepped inside. Students were already seated, some flipping through notes, others whispering in low voices, but beneath it all was a tension that didn't belong to them. It belonged to the room itself. Or more specifically to the man standing at the front.
Roman Ashford.
He wasn't speaking. He wasn't moving much either. One hand rested lightly on the desk, the other holding a stack of exam papers. His gaze moved across the room slowly, deliberately, like he was measuring something no one else could see.
Jay didn't slow down.
He walked in like any other student, calm, composed, his expression neutral. No hesitation. No unnecessary glances. He chose a seat not too close, not too far and sat down, placing his pen neatly on the desk.
For a second, his eyes lifted.
Roman's gaze met his.
Just for a second.
Then it moved on.
No reaction. No acknowledgment.
