Back at school, she returned to normal. Lesson plans, hallway duty, coffee in the staff lounge. Her smile never faltered. No one knew anything.
That was the point.
But late at night, she thought of Nadra's skin—how it carried warmth like a promise. How her gaze didn't judge. Just offered.
She knew it couldn't last. Knew it shouldn't have happened.
You're her teacher.
You're supposed to be above this.
But Samantha also knew longing doesn't care for hierarchy. It moves how it pleases. Sometimes toward danger. Sometimes toward truth.
She would keep it quiet.
She would protect it.
Because Nadra hadn't just wanted her. She'd looked at her like Samantha was still allowed to feel something beyond control.
And Samantha wasn't ready to forget that.