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"Good evening, class," he whispered. The audio was crisp, unnervingly clear against the grainy visual. "I’m so glad you stayed late for the extra credit."

I frowned. There were no students in the room. But as Mr. Aris began writing on the chalkboard, the camera panned slowly to the right. There, sitting in the front row, was a boy. He was perfectly still—so still he looked like a mannequin. FavoriteTeacher8mp4

Mr. Aris stopped writing. He didn't turn around. "Do you have the answer, Leo?" "Good evening, class," he whispered

On screen, Mr. Aris reached out a hand, his fingers stretching toward the lens until they seemed to press against the glass of my monitor. sitting in the front row