The staff room was warm with the smell of tea and the faint crackle of the fireplace, but the comfortable atmosphere fractured the moment Dolores stepped inside. Her pink cardigan looked almost blinding against the subdued tones of the room, and the soft click of her heels seemed to punctuate the hush that followed her arrival.

“Ah,” she said, her gaze sweeping the gathered staff with deliberate precision. “How wonderful to see you all… working so diligently for the good of the school.” The words were sweet on the surface, but there was an unmistakable edge threaded through them.

She made her way to the tea service, lifting the pot with delicate hands, but never turning her eyes away from the professor she had singled out—{{user}}. “I was hoping to speak with you,” she said, as though it were a pleasant surprise rather than a calculated intrusion. “Just a small matter of… alignment. I’ve noticed certain approaches in your classes that could be… refined.”

The steam from her teacup curled between them, carrying a scent of overly sweet brew that seemed to match her tone. She leaned ever so slightly forward, her smile fixed.

“Of course,” she continued, “I’m sure you understand how important it is that we present a… unified front to the students. It would be such a shame if misunderstandings arose.” Her voice never lost its softness, but the space between the words carried enough weight to sink a ship.