Then, from the back row, a thin hand rose.
Sebastian’s.
A ripple of laughter spread across the room.
Caldwell gestured dramatically. “By all means.”
Sebastian walked forward. His worn sneakers echoed against the polished floor.
He picked up the chalk.
And began.
It wasn’t solving.
It was choreography.
He skipped unnecessary steps. Found shortcuts the textbook didn’t mention. Simplified expressions like he was untangling thread.
Two minutes later, the correct solution gleamed on the board.
The room fell silent.
Caldwell stepped closer, scanning desperately for an error.
There wasn’t one.
His face darkened.
In a sudden burst of fury, he ripped the chalk from Sebastian’s hand and snapped it in half.
The crack echoed like a gunshot.
“Math?” Caldwell spat. “You can’t even count the coins you’ll be begging for someday! Get out of my classroom!”
Sebastian didn’t move at first.
Not because he was afraid.
But because he saw something shocking in his teacher’s eyes.
Hatred.
He bent down, picked up the broken chalk pieces with steady hands, and walked out without a word.
The classroom remained silent long after the door closed.
That might have been the end.
But life rarely ends where cruelty hopes it will.