The conversation shifted, but the underlying tension remained.
Questions lingered in the air, unspoken yet palpable.
Trump seemed to sense this, his gaze settling on the journalist once more.
“We’re looking at all the options,” he said, a note of finality in his voice.
It was a statement that signaled the end of the current discussion.
The room slowly began to stir back to life, people adjusting their posture, preparing for the next topic or the end of the meeting.
Yet the promise of $2,000 checks loomed, a specter of hope and uncertainty.
It was a promise that would be dissected, debated, and discussed long after the room had emptied.
For now, it remained a possibility, a future event that hovered on the horizon.
The meeting concluded with the usual formalities, handshakes, and nods of acknowledgment.
Trump stood, offering a brief smile, the kind that was practiced yet carried a hint of genuine warmth.
As people began to file out, the echoes of the conversation lingered, bouncing off the walls, a reminder of the day’s events.
Outside, the world continued, the city bustling with its own stories, its own promises.
In the end, it was a moment frozen in time, a point of intersection between intention and reality.
And as I stepped out of the room, I couldn’t help but wonder what would unfold in the days to come.
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