Next class: math.
And then—she double-checked the schedule—art class again.
Alina sighed deeply, rubbing her forehead.
"Who made this schedule?" she muttered to herself. "I need to have a serious conversation with that person."
Art-math-art wasn't exactly an ideal balance. She mentally noted that she'd revise the class routine later — something a little less chaotic and a bit more… logical.
Still, for now, she decided to give her students a short break before diving into numbers and shapes.
"Alright, sweethearts! Five-minute break," she called earlier, and just like that, the classroom cleared out like someone had released a swarm of candy bees outside. Chairs squeaked, feet shuffled, and voices disappeared down the hallway.
But one student remained.
Sable.
He sat quietly at his desk, his tiny legs dangling, hands folded over his finished artwork. He didn't move, didn't follow the others. Instead, he just stared down at his drawing.
