Power had always relied on distance.
Not distance of geography, but of perception. The space between decision and consequence. Between language and lived experience. That space had once been wide enough to protect authority from discomfort. Now it had narrowed.
Not closed.
But close enough to feel heat.
Aria sensed the shift less in public moments than in private ones. Conversations that once ended with polite deferral now lingered uncomfortably. Officials spoke with hesitation, aware that every sentence might be traced, every assumption questioned.
Marcelo described it succinctly during a late evening briefing. "They are second guessing themselves."
Luca raised an eyebrow. "That is new."
"Yes," Marcelo replied. "And destabilizing."
Aria listened quietly, Elena asleep against her shoulder. The steady rhythm of her daughter's breathing grounded her in the midst of abstraction.
"Second guessing can lead to better decisions," Aria said. "Or paralysis."
