Eliana's POV
As Professor Matthews prepared his things before addressing the class, I kept my eyes on him, watching his every movement.
How could he look so peaceful after what he did?
The other day, he'd come to class looking as if he had just taken an innocent person’s life. And I had felt a modicum of satisfaction knowing that he was troubled. But now that he seemed to be in a better state of mind, I felt as if that sense of satisfaction had been stolen from me. Ripped away even.
Done with his preparations, he adjusted his tie and walked to the edge of the platform so he could face the class squarely.
“Good morning, class.” He smiled, his eyes sweeping the auditorium. That smile, the smile that usually made me experience butterflies, further added to the hatred I was beginning
