As the rest of the class filed out of the room, I watched Daniel closely. His shoulders were slightly hunched, and he seemed hesitant, as if unsure whether to meet my gaze or look away. I gestured for him to sit down, and he obliged, sinking into the chair with a sigh.
I started gently, aiming to understand rather than accuse. “Daniel, I’ve noticed that you’ve been getting up a lot during lessons. Is something wrong? You know you can talk to me about anything.”
He fiddled with the edge of his notebook, eyes fixed on it as if searching for answers within the lined pages. “It’s not… I mean, I don’t do it on purpose,” he mumbled, his voice almost swallowed by the silence of the now-empty classroom.
