"I’m looking for Teacher Anastasia."
Hearing her voice, all eyes paused, and then so shifted, so were taken aback, and so politely nodded.
A few seconds later, a female teacher stood up and looked over.
She was dressed in a professional style, ticulously grood, wearing rimless glasses, with sharp eyes and a stern expression, looking shrewd and capable.
"I am Anastasia. May I ask who you are?"
"Nora Scott."
Anastasia’s expression softened a bit, managing a slight smile amid her impersonal indifference, "So, you’re the parent of Oliver Scott—"
With a cold twitch of her lips, Nora interrupted before she could finish, "I am Marcus Shaw’s half-sister from the sa mother."
"..."
Anastasia was montarily speechless.
The polite words left unspoken were swallowed after a brief pause.
In the office, several teachers were montarily stunned, then withdrew their "seeing a ghost" expressions and unanimously busied themselves, so fetching water, others preparing lessons.
"Co in then."
In no ti, Anastasia returned to her cold, hard attitude, with no trace left of her earlier warmth.
Nora was unfazed; not only did she enter, but she also casually grabbed an empty chair, placed it beside Anastasia, and sat down.
Her attitude without the awareness of a ’student’s guilty parent’ irked Anastasia. Her already sowhat harsh expression imdiately turned even colder and more rigid.
A teacher spontaneously poured a glass of water and handed it over. Nora took it, sipped a little, and lazily asked, "Where are they?"
"They’ll co after class."
Anastasia raised her hand to adjust her glasses and sat back in her chair.
Right leg crossed over left knee, hand holding the paper cup. Fingertips idly twirling, Nora’s expression was extrely indifferent as she spoke, "Then let’s hear about the situation in detail."
The righteous attitude was as if her brother had been unfairly picked on.
Anastasia was so enraged by her deanor that her brow darkened.
Truly Marcus Shaw’s sister, clearly not soone to be trifled with!
She looks like a seductress...
As a language teacher, Anastasia’s expression was smooth, explaining the fight between Marcus and Oliver in a few words.
Her explanation was clearly biased, speaking with an obvious subjectivity, attributing all fault to Marcus. The entire narrative was essentially about Marcus causing trouble first, refusing to admit fault, leading to Oliver fighting with him. Although both sustained minor injuries, the real victim was still Oliver, and Marcus was purely unreasonable.
Nora listened calmly from start to finish, and it was only after Anastasia finished speaking that she sipped so water to moisten her lips.
"How does the teacher want to resolve this?" she asked, lightly rubbing her fingers along the edge of the cup.
"It’s not the first ti Marcus has been involved in a fight. When his mother was alive, he was sowhat restrained, but since the start of this school term, he’s beco more rampant," Anastasia maintained her serious and coldly stiff expression, "He regularly causes trouble with classmates, skips morning and evening self-study in the dormitory, and I’ve heard from classmates that he’s associating with unsavory elents outside of school..."
"Rumors. Do you have evidence?"
Nora frowned and interrupted her, her gaze carrying a thin layer of coolness. When her gaze turned over, Anastasia felt a chill in her chest, as if her blood was cooling down.
Regardless of her calm deanor, one could perceive the defiance and wildness in her, the air of a street ruffian, her silent presence exerting pressure.
Anastasia steadied her emotions and said coldly, "There’s no smoke without fire. I’ve been a horoom teacher and have taught many students. Let be clear, if Marcus continues this way, getting into university will be the least of his concerns; it will only be a matter of ti before he goes down the wrong path."
"Ha."
A low, soft chuckle.
Nora finished half the cup of water, with a shallow smile on her lips, she leisurely leaned back into her chair, her tone both slow and firm, "In our family, we may not always be successful, but we definitely won’t go astray."
"..."
Anastasia was rendered speechless by a single glance.
"Don’t worry, Teacher Anastasia, no matter how Marcus turns out, we won’t be broadcasting it everywhere; after all, he’s your student."
Nora’s eyes were smiling, yet her words were sarcastic.
The entire office was filled with the tense atmosphere of conflict, with every teacher seemingly preoccupied, but their peripheral vision was keenly observing the situation, sighing at how even Mistress Extinction, as Anastasia was known, had t her match.
But of course, she was the half-sister, after all, not particularly concerned about Marcus’s future?
Moreover, how could a girl in her early twenties manage to handle soone like Marcus!
No one noticed—
A shadow flickered outside the door.
The wild and flamboyant phoenix eyes had a coldness like a pool of water, montarily disturbed by a pebble, sending ripples that quickly settled into calm.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The office door was knocked again.
Everyone looked up.
Standing at the door was a teenager, about sixteen or seventeen, wearing a school uniform jacket, with a tall and slender build, still carrying a youthful aura, but already showing his own style.
Marcus Shaw.
He inherited Evelyn Easton’s good genes, with dazzling, sharp phoenix eyes, openly aggressive, with no subtlety.
Good-looking in an extre way, yet the overly perfect features carried an invasive vibe similar to Nora Scott, exuding an unapproachable impression, making it hard for anyone to feel close.
He stood at the doorway, backlit, casting a long shadow into the room, blocking streams of light.
At the sight of him, Anastasia snorted coldly, showing evident dissatisfaction and dislike.
anwhile—
Behind him approached another teenager, wearing a neat school uniform, handso, with an upright posture, though young, was dignified, with all the rebellious aura drawn inward.
The two teenagers t at the door, their gazes briefly intertwined, full of sharpness, clearly indicating confrontation.
Both were handso and tall, remarkably pleasing to the eye, though their faces bore traces of injuries.
The deanor of a top student versus a troublemaker was instantly discernible.
Glancing past Marcus Shaw, Anastasia looked straight at Oliver Scott, her attitude was sowhat better, saying, "Co in."
The two walked in together.
However, as Oliver Scott stepped in, his gaze landed on Nora Scott, recalling the encounter at the library, he hesitated for a mont, then gathered himself, and explained to Anastasia, "My sister is still on the road, there’s so traffic, she’ll be a bit late."
"It’s okay, no rush."
Anastasia got up to fetch a chair for Oliver Scott.
Before she could finish, the sound of a chair dragging screeched through the room as one was pulled out, its feet scraping against the floor with a piercing noise.
Her gaze was forced onto Marcus Shaw, who was cold-faced, silently carrying a chair, brazenly approached and threw the chair beside Nora Scott, sitting down.
His mannerism was exactly the sa as Nora Scott’s when she ca and moved a chair.
Definitely siblings...
Anastasia was montarily exasperated, but before she could act, Oliver Scott took a chair himself, found a spot, and sat down to one side.
"I’m Oliver Scott, you are Marcus Shaw’s?"
Oliver Scott ignored the obstruction in the middle - Marcus Shaw, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on Nora Scott.
The young one was quite calm.
A sweep of his gaze over the bruises on his face, Nora Scott curled her lips playfully, "Sister."
"Hello."
Oliver Scott greeted politely.
His initiative effectively excluded Anastasia, attempting to handle things on his own.
"I’ve heard about everything, not a big deal." Nora Scott cross-legged, fingers spinning an empty paper box, leisurely observing them, "If you two can converse normally, why not discuss a resolution together?"
Oliver Scott glanced at Marcus Shaw first, then turned back to Nora Scott, saying, "I had a very important gift ruined, one was a signature, the other was a chanical Box. If no other solution works, I hope Marcus Shaw can apologize to ."
The tone was neither humble nor pushy.
"Heh."
Marcus Shaw let out a cold laugh, his lips curling upward in mockery.
His attitude was extrely apparent.
"Alright, one has principles, one has personality." Nora Scott raised an eyebrow, quietly scrutinizing them, smiled, "Then there’s no discussion possible."
Marcus Shaw and Oliver Scott’s gazes t again, hidden currents stirred, with neither willing to concede.
Anastasia’s expression turned cold, is this how the guardian diates conflicts?
Stepping forward, as Anastasia was about to speak, her attention was drawn to the click-clack of high heels in the hallway.
The footsteps grew louder, and several gazes looked tily.
Then, a gentle and polite voice ca from outside the door—
"Sorry, I’m Oliver Scott’s sister, there was so traffic on the road, so I’m late."
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