I frowned. There were no students in the room. But as Mr. Aris began writing on the chalkboard, the camera panned slowly to the right. There, sitting in the front row, was a boy. He was perfectly still—so still he looked like a mannequin.
On screen, Mr. Aris reached out a hand, his fingers stretching toward the lens until they seemed to press against the glass of my monitor. FavoriteTeacher8mp4
The screen went black. In the reflection of the monitor, I could see the silhouette of a tall man standing in the corner of my room, holding a piece of chalk. I haven't looked back since. I frowned