Change my thinking.
Seraphina had said that to me so many times, like a mantra, like a warning. I had always brushed it off, tucked it away in the back of my mind like a note scribbled on a scrap of paper. But this time, it hit differently. Her words didn't just linger; they echoed, growing louder and louder until they became impossible to ignore.
My chair scraped the floor when I abruptly stood. The shrill sound seemed to slice through the murmuring hall, turning heads. Rachel, eyes wide, called after me. "Arthur," she said, a mixture of confusion and concern painting her features. "We have afternoon classes—are you alright?"
Crack.
