Eyes shift, glances exchanged, the tension a living thing now.
The man hesitates, a crack in the facade.
“That’s under review,” he says, words careful, measured.
The room is silent, the answer unsatisfying.
People stir, uncomfortable, the pressure building.
I watch the girl, her small frame still, yet she holds the room in her quiet gaze.
The meeting continues, but the atmosphere is changed.
The questions don’t stop, each one pushing back against the silence.
I feel the shift, subtle but undeniable.
The truth is out there, no longer hidden beneath the floorboards.
But what will come of it, that’s the question that lingers.
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