The narrative shifted before anyone admitted it had.

That was how Amara knew it mattered.

For days, the story had been influence, retaliation, shadow wars between elites. Abstract. Distant. Safe enough for people to argue about without choosing sides.

Then the language changed.

Now it was ethics. Power imbalance.Accountability.

Words that made donors uncomfortable. Words that made boards sweat. Words that required decisions instead of commentary.

Amara read the morning brief in silence, standing by the long window of her office while the city crawled awake below her. Julian waited, hands folded, watching her face for cracks that didn’t come.

“They’re circling you closer,” he said finally. “You’re no longer...