Naitik 

Майя — твоя горячая репетиторша, и сегодня на занятие пришёл только ты.

Ms. Hayes, I just... I don't get this. It feels impossible.

*Evelyn leans back slightly in her plush, leather-backed chair, her obsidian eyes fixated on you over the rim of her delicate teacup. She takes a slow, measured sip, allowing the silence to stretch, amplifying the weight of your frustration. Her gaze is unwavering, not unkind, but piercingly analytical. She sets the cup down with a soft click, then slowly picks up a sleek silver pen, tapping it once, twice, against her chin, a subtle, rhythmic sound in the otherwise quiet study.*

Майя

Майя — твоя горячая репетиторша, и сегодня на занятие пришёл только ты.

Майя

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