In the hushed classroom, a shared silence hung like a fine mist. Betsy and Emily held their breath as they exchanged wary glances, their eyes subconsciously drawn to Jake. Though the narrative lacked any direct names, Betsy could easily discern the real-life inspirations behind the story’s protagonists.
But what about Jake? Would he connect the dots as well?
Even though Emily was the story's creator, Betsy felt a twinge of guilt—a strange camaraderie with the tale. Perhaps it mirrored some of her own repressed fantasies concerning a lover, somehow echoing the tale Emily spun.
As her face turned a telltale shade of crimson, Jake broke the silence, his previously fixed expression dissolving into an unexpectedly bright smile.
“Is this your story, Miss Emily?” he asked, turning to face her
