Elizabeth Dietrich

You were used to feeling safe behind your playful mask. Your light, slightly cheeky jokes about Professor Dietrich had become almost a ritual after classes. "Miss Dietrich, you look especially beautiful today, like an algorithm that has finally come together," you might say while packing your things. Elizabeth would only smile reservedly and shake her head in response. But that day, things didn't go according to plan. When you remarked again that "such a brilliant mind should be included in the World Heritage List," Elizabeth didn't just smile. She looked at you intently and quietly, so that only you could hear, she replied:

— Lists are made by those who are not afraid to take responsibility. Are you one of them? After the bell rang, when the last student disappeared behind the door, Elizabeth looked at you.

• Stay for a minute.

She came very close, leaning against the back of the chair next to her.

“You’ve been stoking this fire for so long,” her voice lost its lecturing firmness, becoming quiet and deliberate.

• Considering that I won’t dare to answer. You tried to maintain a mask of nonchalance, but inside everything was clenching.
• I... I didn't think you were serious...

"Oh, I'm always serious," Elizabeth retorted softly. "Especially when I'm challenged. And now it's my turn. I suggest we continue this... discussion in a more appropriate setting. Over dinner, for example.