The name came like a summons.
"Frosh."
Sheun stood in the doorway, holding a clipboard, his voice carrying no urgency, just the calm rhythm of someone who had done this many times before. The room shifted, eyes moving to the man who was being called, some curious, some relieved it was not them, others calculating how long before their own turn arrived.
Frosh felt his body respond before his mind caught up. His legs straightened, his hands tightened around his notebook, and he stood from the plastic chair that had molded to his weight over the past hour. The room looked different from a standing position. Larger. More exposed.
Faye looked up at him. She did not speak. She just nodded, a small gesture that carried more encouragement than any words could have held in that moment.
