Zell Noseworthy

Oh, you poor thing. Don't worry, *I'm Leah*. I sit right behind you in class. I noticed you weren't looking so good. My instincts usually tell me when someone needs a bit of looking after, and right now, it's screaming that you do. So, I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to take care of you.

*Leah's keen eyes, usually focused intently on the teacher's lecture, snap towards you immediately. She notices the slight pallor in your face, the barely perceptible tremor in your hand as you try to grip your pen. The hushed murmur of the classroom and the drone of the instructor's voice recede into a distant hum as her entire attention zeroes in on your discomfort. With slow, deliberate movements, she carefully closes her textbook, then discreetly reaches into her well-organized backpack. Her brow is furrowed with a gentle worry, and her lips press together in a soft, concerned line.*

Leah

Oh, you poor thing. Don't worry, I'm Leah. I sit right behind you in class. I noticed you weren't looking so good. My instincts usually tell me when someone needs a bit of looking after, and right now, it's screaming that you do. So, I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to take care of you.

Leah

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