The moment Isabelle stepped back into the classroom, the quiet murmurs that had been floating through the air immediately died down.
It wasn't because she made a scene.
She didn't need to.
Her mere presence was enough.
With the same practiced grace, she walked to her desk, setting her books down with quiet precision. The students, already familiar with the routine, straightened in their seats, their idle chatter fading into nothing.
A few exchanged quick glances, their curiosity clear—especially after seeing Damien follow in behind her at his usual unhurried pace. But no one dared to openly ask what had happened.
The only sound left in the room was the crisp shuffle of notebooks being opened.
Physics class was about to begin.
Isabelle sat down, exhaling softly as she reached for her pen.
Then—
"Alright," Madeline's voice cut in, hushed but amused, "what exactly happened with Elford?"
Isabelle didn't turn her head.
Instead, she simply gave Madeline a pointed look.
