Hazel's Point of View
I stand at the front of the lecture hall, fingers wrapped lightly around the edge of the desk as students shuffle into their seats, the buzz of low chatter filling the space like a soft hum. My heart hammers in my chest, not from fear, but from a wild mix of nerves and excitement. The kind that coils in your belly and keeps you standing just a little taller.
Sunlight spills in through the tall windows to my left, casting golden slashes across the rows of seats, and I take a breath that fills my lungs with the scent of coffee, paper, and a faint trace of chalk dust. My notes are arranged neatly on the desk, lesson plan, student list, a few references, everything perfectly in place, even if I don’t quite feel the same.
The last of the students settle in, and the nois
