I stood in front of his office door long after the halls had emptied, clutching the edge of my notebook so tightly the spiral wire bit into my palm.

This was stupid. Desperate. But I’d already tried everything else—extra credit assignments, study groups, all-nighters. Nothing had pushed my grade past that brutal 68%. And if I failed, I’d lose my scholarship.

I knocked softly.

“Come in,” came that deep, clipped voice I knew all too well.

I stepped inside. The lights were dimmer than usual, a desk lamp casting amber across the room. He was seated behind his desk, sleeves rolled to his elbows, tie loosened. Papers were scattered before...