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Chapter 96: How Sunday Feels
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... and the faint rustle of pages turning.
Noel sat cross-legged on his bed, a textbook open in front of him and a highlighter in hand. His glasses—used only when he was truly locked in—balanced low on his nose. His focus was sharp, scanning through lines of international trade policies with the seriousness of someone preparing for war.
Across from him, Luca was slumped at his desk, chin resting on his arm, half-reading, half-daydreaming. His own business studies textbook lay open—u ...
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