She’s threatening a veto.
This feels less like an offer and more like a warning.
I took it, because of course I did.
An uncomfortable level of relatability here.
I’m choosing not to ask.
Something must have gone very wrong, very fast.
Bed-making remains a negotiated process.
I’ve been overruled.
They have chosen a leader.
A difficult connection, apparently.
Pretty sure this is the building’s brain.
