Ultramodern Gold

Claire winced inwardly. 

She wondered if she should start doing meditation for real. No distraction helped her when she was anxious. 

Hearing the sound of approaching footsteps, Claire raised her head to glance at the man who stopped in front of her table, "President Delaney..."

Claire lowered the shades from her eyes before she blinked at him, motioning him to take a seat. 

The man sat in the chair opposite her.

She glanced at the investigator emotionlessly, but her fingers were crossed under the table, "Did you get what I asked for?" she was hoping for his answer to be optimistic.

"Yes," the man said. 

Claire's face visibly lit up until the man took out a thick file from his bag, "This..." He placed it on the table. 

Her face fell, "This...?"