“My brother gave me this the night before my exam,” she said. “He stole it from the teacher’s desk. I passed. Got my certificate. Went to university. Became an engineer.” She paused. “My brother? He failed. Not because he wasn’t smart. Because he never learned how to try.”

Marco had been staring at the same page for forty minutes. Page 39 of the Laser B1 Student’s Book . The grammar exercise stared back, half-finished, like an accusation.

“Stories don’t care about editions,” she said. She reached into her apron and pulled out a folded, yellowed sheet of paper. On it, handwritten in faded ink: Laser B1 Student’s Book Answers – Unit 4.

Marco looked up. An old woman stood in his doorway—his neighbor, Mrs. Carmo, whom he’d never seen leave her apartment in three years.

That night, Marco got nine out of fifteen correct. The teacher wrote: Good. Now explain why the other six are wrong.

Mrs. Carmo’s smile widened. She took the yellowed paper and, without a word, dropped it into his trash bin. As she left, she said, “Page 42 is harder. You’ll want answers for that one too. Don’t look for them.”

“I need the answers,” Marco sighed, tapping the book. “The teacher took the answer key. Said it would ‘build character.’ I have the test tomorrow.”