The middle-aged woman across from me spoke in a steady, practiced tone, her voice controlled as if she had repeated these exact words many times before. The room felt quiet, the kind of silence that pressed against my ears and made every small movement feel amplified. She kept her gaze locked on me, not missing a single reaction, as though she was measuring something beyond my answers.
According to her investigation, Fuller Corporation had already undergone an audit under public supervision this month, and my signature appeared across the submitted report to the Economic Network. She slid the documents forward, tapping one page with her pen, drawing my attention to the rows of signatures that all seemed unmistakably mine.
I nodded once, saying nothing, keeping my breathing even. My instincts told me not to react too quickly, not to give away anything unnecessary. In moments like this, control mattered more than explanation.
