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... faint diagonal streaks against the wide upstairs window of the conference room. Jake stood with his arms crossed, watching it run like veins down the glass, blurring the pitch below. The stadium sat empty, just scaffolding and silence beneath the cloud-heavy sky. But inside the room, behind him, the day had already begun to shift.
Three pages lay spread across the oak table. Neat. Signed. Stamped.
Okafor.
Ibáñez.
Mensah.
Transfers. Confirmed. Final.
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