The corridor lights buzzed faintly as I walked, notebook tucked under my arm, heading toward one of the empty classrooms I sometimes used to study late. It was easier when the school was quiet, when the only sounds were my pen scratching against paper and the occasional hum of the old ceiling fans.

As I passed one of the doors, I slowed.

Through the long window in the frame, I caught sight of Nathan. Head bent over a notebook, pen moving quickly, his posture sharp and focused in the dim glow of the desk lamp he’d dragged onto the front row.

I hadn’t expected anyone to still be here. Least...