FAT, BARREN, AND REJECTED
I told myself that even as I slowed, some instinct I couldn’t fully justify keeping my feet rooted just outside the doorway, close enough to hear without being seen.
“—moved the date up again,” Aldric was saying, his voice carrying the particular flatness of a man discussing logistics rather than anything sentimental. “Two weeks from Saturday now, not three. The Alpha wants it finalized before Ashcombe has time to build any more momentum with the neutral packs.”
“Two weeks.” The staff member’s voice carried faint surprise. “That’s barely enough time to finish the arrangements properly.”