essor Miller's "Introduction to Sociology" class. Attendance was a huge part of the grade, and

called me one morning, her

k in traffic. There's no way I'll make it. Can you please,

nt at the sign-in sheet, my pen hovering over the box next to her name. It felt wrong, b

he next

s something. It has come to my attention that some students think it's

t fell over th

is voice sharp. "Coul

r head bowed, loo

last Tuesday's l

id, her voice barely a

n why your name is o

e sweeping the room before landing on me. She didn

g. "I know it was wrong, but I was so scared of failing. And she... she d

look like the corrupting influence, the one who actually broke the rule

tion, automatically failing the course. For Madison, it was a class she was already failing anyway. For me, it

d. I started having panic attacks before every exam. I felt the weight of every studen

aining sympathy from everyone who didn't know better. "I just had t

under the blanket. Not again. That would not be my future. This time, when Madison's "crisis" happ

for getting

arp, sarcastic, and with a built-in detector for nonsense that was second to none. In my first life, she had been a distant but observant presence,

said, swinging my legs

er eyes flicking over to Madison, who wa

. I'm not really feeling up to i

s teary face to my completely neutral one. "Uh-huh

ged me. "What was that about? Did you finally tel

that," I said wi

across her face. "Someone had to. That girl's

ivia saw it too. She saw r

dison was at it again. She was on a video call wi

been acting really strange today. She's being so cold. I thi

n the past, this would have filled me with anxiety. I woul

hey might get stuck. She then put on her large headphones, blasting music l

left Madison talking to an empty, silent audience. For the first time, her words had no power. They