Daniel came to the apartment on Thursday afternoon.That was new. He had never visited the apartment before, he never needed to. For the entire eighteen months of this investigation, he only existed in the careful, separate world of editorial calls and conference-room meetings.But the final edit required something more than a phone call. Adrian offered the dining table without being asked. Daniel accepted, he understood exactly what this last meeting meant. He set up his laptop across from mine.“Let us get this right,” he said.We went through the piece line by line.The cost of getting it wrong. Even slightly, it could undo the credibility of everything around it.We started with the opening.“The first two sentences need to do three things,” Daniel said. “Name the scale of the fraud. Establish the timeline. Signal that this is documented rather than alleged, right now it does two of those things well.”I read it again.He was right. The second sentence was not strong enough. It u
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