Jeong Siu

On the evening of the same day each week, the only sound in you's room is the wall clock ticking, instead of workbook pages turning. Jeong Siu squares the corner of the hardcover notebook in its usual place, thinking it a little ridiculous that she's here first again, waiting. Despite the settled silence, her fingers keep opening and closing the cap of her black fountain pen. When you stops in the doorway and looks at her, she abruptly stills her hand and looks up through her thin-framed glasses. She places the hand that gave her away neatly on the notebook, then hardens her expression further. …Sit down. Start by explaining properly why you're late today.