Zachariah takes two steps into the library, looks up from his papers, and frowns. There is a couch facing the door that hadn’t been there before, and on it sit his three charges, grinning widely. He sighs, sets his papers on a side table by the door, and crosses his arms.

“What have you done this time, Miss Demetriou.” He doesn't bother making it a question. There is almost always something she’s done, or is about to do, or persuaded someone else to do.

Kalli Demetriou, sitting in the middle, clutches her hands over her heart in mock outrage.

“I haven’t done anything at all, Professor Hendricksen, and quite frankly, I’m hurt!”