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Simon glanced from Madison to the official interpreter and back again as if hoping someone would explain what was happening in a way that preserved his dignity.
No one did.
The investor took two slow steps back toward the table.
“Tell me,” he said, still in Arabic, “what exactly did they mean?”
Madison looked once at Simon.
He nodded too quickly, desperate now.
She translated his intended meaning with care, stripping away the arrogance that had slipped into the original phrasing and replacing it with what the team had probably wanted to say before fear and ego made everything ugly.
When she finished, the investor listened without interrupting.
He said nothing for a moment.
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