The transcript wasn’t there. Only the notice remained: unavailable, restricted, closed. I sat in my kitchen at midnight, deadline burning, and realized the story I’d been trusted with had been…

The transcript wasn’t there. Only the notice remained: unavailable, restricted, closed. There was no story for me to retell. I’d rather leave that silence honest than invent one to fill it.

Send the transcript, and I’ll tell it the way it deserves.