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.
Read more on the next page ⬇️⬇️⬇️
