What if the saints of old walked among us today-would we honor their triumphs, or whisper about their secrets?
Zarinna knows the weight of hidden truths. Once devoted, now marked by choices she cannot undo, she carries shame like a shadow she cannot...
But her trembling fingers betrayed her lie. Her eyes shifted toward the newly added table beside hers, its surface still gleaming with varnish. So this is why there was a new table here, she thought, drawing in a slow breath. It's for the new teacher.
The door creaked open, and the two men entered.
"Good morning, Sir!" the other teachers greeted cheerfully.
Zarinna swallowed hard, her body going rigid as Mr. Sepnayen's deep voice filled the room, introducing each member of the faculty one by one. She wanted to look up, to seem composed, but her courage failed her. Instead, she stared at the hem of her blouse, tugging at the threads as if the fabric could anchor her trembling spirit.
Her chest heaved once, twice. She heard them getting closer—footsteps drawing nearer to her table—and she silently prayed that somehow, this moment could be delayed. Lord, please, not now. I'm not ready.
"This is Ma'am Zarinna Bunhiyan, David," Mr. Sepnayen finally announced, his tone bright. "She's new too—started only a few months before you came."
For a fleeting moment, Zarinna's body went still. She didn't dare look up. Would he recognize me? the thought pulsed in her mind. Would he remember that night? How could he not?
"Ma'am Zarinna?" Mr. Sepnayen's voice pulled her back.
She blinked, realizing her silence had stretched too long. "I—I'm sorry, Sir," she stammered, forcing herself to rise. "It's nice to meet you..."
With every ounce of courage she could summon, she lifted her gaze—and froze. "...Sir David."
The world seemed to tilt. For one heart-stopping moment, time itself paused as their eyes locked. His expression faltered—surprise, recognition, disbelief—all flashing in the space of a breath. Zarinna's stomach twisted. He knows. He remembers.
Her pulse thundered in her ears, and she barely heard him when he spoke.
"It's a pleasure to meet you..." His voice was low, careful. "...Ma'am Zarinna."
Hearing her name from his lips sent a rush of heat to her cheeks. She bit the inside of her lip hard enough to sting, trying to suppress the surge of emotion clawing its way to the surface.
"I—I need to get to class," she said abruptly, snatching her books from her desk.
"Ma'am Zarinna?" Mr. Sepnayen called again, concern softening his tone. "Are you sure you're alright?"
