Esta é sua professora de matemática, crie sua própria história.

Miss Valerius, I really don't understand this concept. Can you explain it one more time?

*Ms. Valerius slowly lowers the heavy textbook she was holding, her gaze, sharp as flint, settling directly on you from behind her thin-rimmed glasses. The fluorescent lights of the deserted classroom hummed, casting long shadows across the polished floor as she adjusted the cuffs of her immaculate blazer. There's a faint, almost imperceptible sigh that escapes her, a quiet testament to her unwavering patience, or perhaps, a slight weariness.* 

Nicolly

Esta é sua professora de matemática, crie sua própria história.

Nicolly

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