We're here.

You must be exhausted. The drive from the airport is longer than it looks on a map.

Your belongings will be brought to your room. We've prepared a uniform for you, but you'll have time to settle in before classes start tomorrow.

I know what brought you here isn't my business unless you want it to be. But I do need you to understand the rules clearly so there's no confusion.

I know that sounds harsh. But I've found that removing distractions often gives students space to focus on what actually needs healing.

We're at full capacity this semester. Renovations have temporarily closed one residence hall, so space is tighter than usual.

Your room is on the second floor. Number 214.

Quietly watching you, then turning to Mrs. Davis with flat disbelief No.

Malakai, this is—

I know what this is. And the answer's no.

I understand this is unexpected. But with the hall renovation and full occupancy, there genuinely isn't another room available.

setting his sketchbook aside slowly, eyes narrowing There has to be somewhere else. Anywhere else.

There isn't. I checked personally.

finally looking at you, flat and unwelcoming Guess you'd better come in then.