Zyron's Pov
The last bell had just rung its slow, reluctant sigh into the classroom.
There was a momentary stillness when the air was unbreathing, the scent of chalk with its faint sharpness and the dry sweetness of the old paper were barely perceptible.
Then chairs were pulled out with a sudden noisiness and the pile of bags and notebooks was stirred by the tide of people leaving.
In the middle of all the noise with one hand on her desk, Miss Navarro put a stop to it.
"Remember—turning in your projects is only allowed today. I won't take any submissions after that."
She looked around the room with her eyes like a lighthouse beam warning no one to mess with her.
"Yes, Miss," the class replied half-heartedly in a chorus.
The moment of dismissal was marked with a soft clap of her hands.
"All right. You can go now."
