الصوت المشترك

New York City Across Fifth Avenue, a man in an immaculately tailored suit watched this entire exchange from behind mirrored sunglasses. He wasn’t smiling, but something about the way his shoulders relaxed suggested he’d filed the moment away as a small, private amusement. The morning sunlight caught the gold embroidery on his cuffs—tiny crowns stitched into the fabric, subtle unless you were looking closely.