Matt
I knew Ayla Corsetti as a student who never caused trouble.
Her grades were steady. Attendance perfect. Her answers were always correct—precise, almost emotionless. She was never late, never asked for extensions, never made excuses. The kind of student every lecturer admired. On paper.
That was exactly what made her stand out.
Over the past six months, a pattern had emerged—one I couldn’t ignore. Ayla was becoming… hollow. Her eyes stayed focused, but never fully present. Her smile appeared at the right moments, but never reached her eyes.
I thought it was something minor. At least, not serious enough to concern me until tonight.
I saw her leaving campus later than usual.
I should’ve gone home. But I needed to stop by the supermarket for mushrooms, which meant taking a differen
