I signed the contract on a Monday morning in October, in an office with a view of the harbor, with a pen Richard Hale handed me himself.“Senior Strategic Director,” he said, watching me read the title on the letterhead one more time before I signed beneath it. “Effective immediately.”My hand didn’t shake. I was almost disappointed in myself for how little ceremony the moment required — after everything, I’d half expected the universe to mark it somehow. Instead, it was just a pen, a signature, and a woman who finally had her name attached to something that couldn’t be taken back at a dinner party.“There’s a team assembling in the conference room,” Richard said, sliding the contract into a folder. “They’ve been briefed generally. Not specifically. That part is yours to handle.”“Understood.”“One more thing.” He paused at the door, hand on the frame, something almost careful in his expression. “Once this starts moving, it moves fast. Van Corporation already knows something’s circlin
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