The third floor of the Student Council building was always quieter than the rest of the campus.
Up here, the wide hallways were lined with polished silver trim and oak doors that kept out the noise from the lower courtyards. Council members moved between offices, carrying stacks of papers and reports, while a few second-year reps spoke in low voices near the center of the hall.
I walked straight to the end of the quiet corridor and pushed open the last door on the left without knocking.
Sylvia was sitting behind her desk, buried under a mountain of paperwork — budget forms, event schedules, and reports for the upcoming practical midterms. She didn't even look up as the door swung open.
"What mess did you cause this time that made you come here yourself?" she asked, her pen moving across the page without stopping.
I paused near the doorway, resting a hand on the back of a chair. "Can't a brother come out to see his only dear older sister?"
