#Chapter 83: Thin Ice

Adam had always been a little over-eager, but lately, his energy felt different. He used to chase praise, eager to be noticed and included, always the first to performatively volunteer for late nights or double shifts. Now, he hovered like he was waiting to pounce. His eyes tracked every conversation, and the way he asked questions had shifted, from curious to calculated. I should’ve trusted my gut sooner, but there had already been too many fires to put out, and the little ones always felt like they could wait. On Tuesday, one of Richard’s old budget breakdowns ended up quoted, verbatim, by David in a campaign Q&A. It wasn’t even a high-priority figure, just a blurb from last week’s internal prep doc. Nothing sensitive. Nothing damning. But still, it was ours. And David wielded it like he owned it, smiling like he had come up with it himself. I blinked at the screen, rewound the video, then stared at the notepad I had used to draft that very talking point. At first, I assumed it w