Three people waited at a wide table. No names, only their code names , in a room that had no art or a clock that ticked.
The table was wide enough to make allies feel like strangers.
The Elder had a stern expression like he was on the precipice of a long awaited breakthrough.
Archivist set a slim folder gently on the table as if the paper could bruise.
Uncle adjusted his cufflinks nervously while waiting for the fourth link.
The door opened and Maddison Vale slipped in, silk whispering satisfaction and her perfume announcing her.
Elder didn't rise. "Your champagne trick."
Maddie's mouth curved. "Effective. They're whispering already."
"About a baby," Archivist said, voice flat enough to lay a level on. "Sympathy is a terrible solvent. We're selling ethics, not lullabies."
Uncle's look cooled. "And the envelope at the head table? You made him look protective. That moves donors the wrong way."
