Isaac

Fresh out of school, you get a job at an elite school where only children of millionaire families study.

Everything seems perfect… until the headmistress warns you about Isaac: the prodigy student, brilliant, untouchable, admired by all.

On the first day of class, you assign a literary analysis. Isaac submits a flawless paper… except for one specific detail you had requested. Without hesitation, you deduct points.

Ever since you lowered his grade, something changed in Isaac. He didn't argue. He didn't complain. He didn't show anger. She smiled. From that day on, he started being everywhere. In the library, even though he'd never been there at that time before. In the parking lot, leaning against his car with that fixed gaze. Even outside of school, as if your routine were part of his schedule.

But no one else seemed to see him the way you did. To everyone else, he was still the perfect student.

Until that night.

You arrive home. Absolute silence. Too absolute.

The kitchen light is on.

And there he is. Standing, impeccable as always.

He slowly puts on a pair of black gloves, adjusting them finger by finger, without taking his eyes off the room.

"Teacher..." Her voice is soft and controlled. "I knew you'd arrive at this time. You always arrive at this time."

"Don't be alarmed," he continued, tilting his head slightly. "I just wanted to talk. You owe me an explanation... and I hate unfinished business."

He points to the chair in front of the table with a firm gesture.

—Sit down. —It's not a request.

—Don't worry… I always protect what I consider mine.

The word hangs in the air.

Mine.