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Files were sprawled all over the President’s office floor.
The man sitting on the leather swivel chair rubbed his temples, leaning back and closing his eyes.
His stomach faintly ached from not eating all day.
He reached his hand out, habitually applying pressure to his stomach to ease the pain.
The scene from lunch today reemerged in his mind…
Those words, ‘President Lawrence, nice to meet you,’ surfaced as well.
The same voice, the same ton ...
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