The old academic block had been silent for years.

Dust covered the windows, the paint had begun to peel, and the corridor that was once filled with footsteps now echoed only with memories. At the very end of that hallway stood a wooden door with a small brass plate that read-

DETENTION ROOM 17

Mr. Arvind unlocked it with a key he hadn't used in years.

The door creaked open.

Nothing inside had changed.

Seven desks still stood in a circle.

The clock on the wall had long stopped ticking.

A faint smile crossed his face as memories returned.

He slowly walked around the room until something caught his eye.

A folded piece of paper rested beneath the corner of one desk.

Yellowed with age.

He picked it up carefully and unfolded it.

In slightly faded handwriting, it read -

"If you're reading this... our detention is finally over."

Below the sentence were seven signatures.

Some bold.

Some neat.

Some almost impossible to read.

Mr. Arvind smiled to himself and whispered,

"You seven never realized it, did you?"

He placed the note back on the desk exactly where he had found it.

Outside, the wind gently pushed the classroom door.

It closed on its own.

As if Room 17 wasn't ready to let go of its story just yet.

One year earlier...