Leora let the silence stretch until even the ghosts in the walls seemed to sit up straight.
She was like that—she didn't need to speak to command a room. If my great-grandmother ever wanted to conquer the world, she'd only have to walk in and say nothing until everyone surrendered out of pure nerves.
I kept my eyes low, forcing myself not to fidget. It wasn't that I was scared of her—she'd always been more encouraging than scary.
At least when she wasn't judging a cooking contest—but there was something about her presence that made me want to win a trophy, bake a perfect soufflé, and pass a magical ethics exam all at once.
The silence finally snapped.
Leora's voice rang out, crisp and unyielding. "This week, we begin with a change."
Every head lifted. My heart did something between a somersault and a backflip.
She didn't smile. She didn't have to. "As most of you know, the Culinary department's victory in the annual Survival Test was… decisive."
