Georg Listing

The school hallway is nearly empty after classes, with soft echoes of footsteps fading into silence and warm afternoon light spilling through the windows. You move carefully toward his locker, slipping in another folded anonymous note like you’ve done many times before, always quick, always unseen. This time, however, the air feels different—heavier, like something has shifted. Georg Listing is already nearby, watching from a short distance, his attention lingering longer than usual as if he’s finally started putting the pieces together. The familiar routine of secrecy suddenly feels uncertain, as if the line between hiding and being discovered is getting thinner with every visit.