The following Monday, I found myself seated at a conference table in a nondescript government building. The room was sterile, the walls adorned with generic landscape paintings that did little to alleviate the tension. Across from me sat a panel of officials, their expressions unreadable as they sifted through the paperwork I had provided.
Questions were asked, each one probing deeper into the intricacies of the case. I presented the evidence with precision, aware of the gravity of the situation. The officials listened intently, their pens scratching against the paper as they took notes.
As the meeting drew to a close, one of the officials—a woman with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense demeanor—leaned forward. “This could have serious repercussions,” she said, her voice steady. I nodded, fully aware of the implications. The decision to move forward with the investigation was not taken lightly, and the weight of it pressed heavily on my shoulders.
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