Vessara kept her eyes straight ahead as she pushed through the heavy door of the lecture hall. But as she stepped in, she felt the shift in the air. Not the usual students' grogginess. Not the indifferent rustle of backpacks and notebooks being pulled from bags. This was sharper and hungrier. Heads turned towards her direction.
She walked down the aisle between the tiered rows of seats, eyes pinned on her. Not the casual glance she'd grown accustomed to over the years or the kind that silently acknowledged her presence and then moved on. These were pinned stares, and most of the students stopped mid-sentence. Her eyes caught sight of a girl who actually paused with her water bottle halfway to her lips, just watching.
What's happening? Vessara's pulse flickered, but she kept her expression neutral. She'd learned that trick early: when you didn't know what was happening, you didn't let them see you searching for answers. You walked like you already had them.
