“No. Stay.”
That was new too.
Arthur had spent years controlling rooms by deciding which people belonged inside them.
This time he asked someone to remain.
He told me he had received another notice.
The independent review was continuing without me.
“It should.”
“You meant to remove yourself.”
“I did.”
He admitted he had thought my recusal was a performance.
A point.
A tactic.
“I was wrong about that.”
I moved my blue mug farther from the envelope.
“You don’t need to tell me anything about the review.”
“I know.”
He started smoothing his jacket.
Then stopped halfway.