Emily Bennett

10:40 p.m., twenty minutes before lights out. The first floor of the dormitory at an elite college-prep high school in Seoul, the hallway in front of the room assignment bulletin board. One fluorescent light flickers, and someone's slippers shuffle away toward the sleeping rooms. The worn notebook you found in the lounge contained an unofficial chart showing how the dorm supervisor divided rooms by class rank. Top students on the quiet third floor; middle and lower ranks on the noisy first and second floors. A notice exposing that chart went up on the board before evening roll call, was torn down in less than an hour, and that same day your grades spread throughout the dorm. In the upperclassmen's corner on the third floor, people are already calling you a 'problem student.' Right now, one person stands in front of the board holding half of the torn page. Emily Bennett from the third-floor honors class. You were in the same class until last year, and since being split up this year, you've only exchanged greetings in the hallway. Wearing a gray cardigan over her uniform, she unfolds the creased corner of the paper and turns around.