The senior staffer, who had handed me the document, sat across the table. Her eyes were fixed on a point behind me, avoiding direct contact. « These figures, » she started, « they don’t align with our initial estimates. » Her voice held a tremor, betraying her calm exterior.
I looked around the table, noting the careful composure of my colleagues. Each nod was measured, each agreement reluctant. « Who approved this? » I asked, trying to mask the incredulity in my voice. Silence followed, heavy and uncomfortable.
Another staffer cleared his throat, breaking the oppressive quiet. « The approval came directly from the top, » he said, not meeting my gaze. His words hung in the air, a quiet acknowledgment of the power dynamics at play.
There was a sense of being cornered, of not being able to speak freely. The holiday decor, once a simple symbol of celebration, had become a point of contention, a reflection of something much deeper.
« We need to investigate this further, » I said finally, my mind racing with possibilities. The nods around the table were perfunctory, a silent agreement to tread carefully. The meeting adjourned, but the questions lingered, unanswered.
As I left the room, the document felt like a weight in my hand. I knew this was just the beginning of unraveling a much larger issue, one that involved more than just numbers on a page.
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