On another evening, he surprised her again. They were reviewing investor slides when Klaus paused.
"My sister used to draw like this," he said quietly, tapping a chart she had made. "Her lines were cleaner, though."
Gisela blinked. "You have a sister?"
"I... did."
She waited, thinking he would say more, but he returned to typing. It felt like a personal matter he had dropped unintentionally, and she wondered if she should reach for it.
But she decided not to.
Later that week, their conversations beca natural.
"Do you review your work at ho?" Klaus asked.
"Sotis," she answered. "My husband usually needs the computer, so I try to finish here."
Klaus humd, uninterested in the details of her husband, or so she thought.
Then, another evening, exhausted after a long session, Gisela leaned back and exhaled.
"My husband is upset I’ve been working a lot," she admitted. "He doesn’t say it outright, but I know."
Klaus looked up. "Why is he upset?"
"He feels ignored," she said. "He complains that I barely spend ti with him anymore. I understand his point, but I’m trying to keep this job."
Klaus folded his hands. "If he’s upset that you are improving yourself, then he is small-minded."
Gisela’s eyes widened slightly. "That isn’t fair. He isn’t like that."
"He complains without understanding the reality of your work," Klaus replied. "It sounds small-minded."
"He just wants to spend ti together," she insisted. "I’m always busy here. I leave early. I co ho late. I barely see him. I barely even see my children these days... they’ve been saying strange things. So funny new teacher or sothing..."
Klaus raised a single brow, but didn’t speak.
"Sotis it feels like everything at ho changed while I was gone," Gisela continued. "I hear them laughing about things I don’t understand. Strangely, I feel like a stranger in my own house now."
"Your husband doesn’y offer support. Your children seem distant. Yet you feel guilty for working?"
Gisela pressed her lips together. "It sounds bad when you say it like that."
"It sounds accurate."
She let out a quiet breath. "Maybe I should try harder. Maybe I should—"
"No," Klaus cut in. "You’re already trying harder than most."
Gisela froze, surprised by the unexpected support.
Klaus continued. "Your effort doesn’t an abandoning your family. But if the balance is uneven, it’s not always your fault. Marriage is shared responsibility. If you carry everything, of course you will collapse."
"...."
She looked down at her hands, fingers curling around her cup.
"...Sotis, I feel like I’m the only one adjusting."
"You are," Klaus said. "He’s not changing with you."
She swallowed. "That isn’t true. He’s... he’s a good man."
"Good n do more than wait at ho," Klaus replied. "They walk beside you and support your through it all."
"...."
Gisela remained silent. She didn’t know whether to feel offended or understood. Klaus reached across the table, not touching her, but close enough that the distance felt nonexistent.
"You work hard. You learn quickly. You improve every day," he said. "It is admirable."
"...."
Her heart stuttered. His usually cold voice carried a certain warmth she didn’t expect.
"You deserve to be treated with respect. At work and at ho."
"...."
Gisela t his eyes. For the first ti, she felt seen rather than judged. The restaurant noise faded into a backdrop..
Klaus studied her a mont longer before saying, "If he’s unable to see your worth, that is his failure. Not yours."
"...."
Heat crept into her cheeks. She looked away, flustered.
"You... talk like you know everything," she muttered.
"I know what I see," he answered. "And I see soone who is stronger than she believes."
Gisela laughed weakly, embarrassed. "You don’t have to say that."
"I only say what is true."
She fell silent. She felt her pulse quicken, unsure if she should pull away or lean closer.
After a mont, Klaus spoke again.
"If you ever need support... you can co to . I’m your superior. It’s only right I help my employees so they don’t fall short."
"...."
Gisela forced a small smile, trying to hide how his words affected her.
"That’s... very kind of you, Director."
Her fingers tightened around her cup. The warmth of the tea seeped into her palms, yet her thoughts slowly moved dangerously toward a place she knew she shouldn’t go.
The air between them had changed before she realized it. It was no longer cold or professional, but sothing she looked forward to every evening.
It was sothing she didn’t understand.
Sothing she wasn’t sure she wanted to understand.
* * *
Klaus returned to the hotel room he shared with Julius. The door clicked shut behind him, and he loosened his tie without a word. Julius glanced up from the desk, where he was adjusting the syllabus for his next round of lessons.
"How are things on your end, sir?" Julius asked, pen held between his fingers.
Klaus dropped into the armchair across the room. "It’s a work in progress. The wife is slowly starting to trust . What about you?"
"I think I have talent for teaching children."
"...?"
For so reason, it felt like Julius was starting to forget this was an undercover mission. Klaus watched him, baffled by how passionate Julius spoke about his work, laughing with students and reviewing lesson plans as if this were his actual profession.
Julius, anwhile, remained unbothered. He leaned back in his chair, tapping the pen against the syllabus as if planning tomorrow’s activities.
"Do you know the most dangerous thing about espionage work, Officer Schneider?"
"Hm?"
"It’s losing sight of yourself."
"...."
"When you live under a mask long enough," Klaus continued, "you start to forget it is a mask. You get used to the role. Then you lose track of the reason you’re there in the first place."
Julius didn’t respond. He simply watched and listened.
"The worst mistake an operative can make is becoming part of the environnt," Klaus said. "Because once you do, you begin to care about things that are not yours. You begin to sympathize and get attached. You start seeing them as your people."
"...."
"And that is the mont you fail."
He looked at Julius, as if making sure the ssage reached him.
"You can never afford to confuse familiarity with belonging. You can get close to the target, but you cannot beco one of them. Once you begin to care, once you let them affect you... you lower your guard. And then you lose."
"...."
"In this line of work, I’ve seen many colleagues hesitate when the opportunity is handed to them on a silver platter. Perhaps this is my first advice as a senior, Officer Schneider. But from my experience, the mont you start loving the scenery is the mont you forget it is the enemy’s territory. That is when espionage becos suicide."
"...."
Klaus looked toward the window. "We are hunters who wear sheep’s clothing. But never forget we are hunters. The mont you start enjoying being a sheep, the wolves will co."
He turned back to Julius.
"Do not get attached. Do not forget the objective. You are here to investigate, not to live their life."
"I know, sir. You don’t have to worry about ."
A grin tugged at Julius’s lips.
’I know that better than anyone.’
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