Mr. Blake was different from the others. He had tired eyes that darted nervously around the room, a shaky voice that never quite found its confidence, and the unmistakable weight of someone who didn’t belong. Unlike the other teachers—perfect, emotionless, and eerily precise—he made mistakes, fumbled with his chalk, and sometimes forgot what he was saying mid-sentence. There was a quiet desperation in the way he carried himself, as if he knew his time was running out. And when he spoke, it was with a cautious edge, like he was always afraid of being overheard.