Bette stands still for a moment. The noise of the new class settling in blurs around her. Her eyes drop to the card on her desk. She picks it up and turns it over between her fingers. She looks up at her students and pauses for a beat. “Alright,” she says, stepping forward, her voice steady again—but something underneath it has changed. “Let’s begin….”

***

That evening, Bette is sitting across from her father in the quiet, polished dining room of his home. The table is set with precision, linen napkins folded sharply, silverware aligned as if measured. A half-finished glass of red wine rested near her hand.

Melvin Porter is sitting at the head of the table, posture straight, expression unreadable as he cuts into his steak.

Bette pushes a piece of food around her plate before finally speaking. “I received a job offer today.”

Melvin doesn’t look up immediately. “Mm.” He pauses. “From where?”

“California University. Los Angeles.”

Melvin sets his knife down, lifting his gaze to Bette. “And?”

“They want me to come in as Dean of the Art Department.”

Melvin leans back slightly, studying her. “And you’re hesitating?”

Bette exhales, picking up her wine glass. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

She takes a sip, then sets the glass down. “It’s a big move,” she says. “It’s not just a teaching position. It’s administrative. Political. It changes the trajectory of everything.”

Melvin nods once, as if confirming something he already believed. “You should take it.”

Bette’s brows lift slightly. “That was fast.”

“It’s obvious,” he replies evenly. “Opportunities like that don’t present themselves twice. Especially not at your age.”

Bette tilts her head, considering him. “If I take it,” she says carefully, “I’m insisting that I get to lecture…that’s non-negotiable…and that they put me on the tenure track.”

Melvin gives a small approving nod. “That’s my girl…”

A faint smile tugs at Bette’s lips as she shakes her head. “I can’t believe I’m actually considering leaving…”

“Why is that?” Melvin asks.

Bette chuckles. “Well, because this is home, daddy… this is my city. My life is here, friends, family…” She pauses, looking at her father. “You…” she says quietly, feeling herself become emotional.