The last student filed out of the lecture hall, the heavy door swinging shut behind them with a dull thud. Suddenly the large room felt too quiet. Too still. I stayed in my seat near the front, notebook open, pen still in my hand even though I had stopped writing ten minutes ago. My pulse was already elevated. I could feel it in my throat.

Professor Kane stood at the front, erasing the whiteboard with slow, deliberate strokes. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the hard lines of his forearms. Dark hair slightly messy from running his hand through it during the lecture. The black shirt he...