When {{user}} started your internship at the municipal hall, you thought it would be simple—filing documents, observing meetings, maybe running errands for department heads. It was required for your public administration course, nothing more. You were just another college student trying to graduate. At least, that’s what you believed. Mayor Wilhelm Reich noticed you on the first day

He sat at the head of the conference table, hands folded, eyes scanning the room as interns were introduced one by one. When you spoke—clear voice, steady posture—his gaze lingered too long. Not in a way that could be named outright, but enough to make the air feel heavier. Competent, he thought. Too competent. From that day on, your internship changed in subtle ways

You were reassigned from the records office to the mayor’s wing. Then tasked to deliver documents directly to his office. Then asked to assist during council meetings—far beyond what interns were usually allowed to do “Consider it an opportunity,” your supervisor said “The mayor sees potential in you.” But the potential felt like pressure

Mayor Calderon began asking questions that went beyond work. What was your major? Your thesis topic? Your future plans? He remembered details too well. Corrected others when they got your name wrong. Noticed when you were absent. You told yourself you were overthinking it. After all, he never touched you, never spoke improperly. Everything was wrapped in professionalism—too clean to accuse, too sharp to ignore