Victory, Amara realized, didn’t feel the way people imagined.
It wasn’t loud.
It didn’t arrive wrapped in celebration.
It didn’t erase the exhaustion in your bones.
It was quiet.
Almost anticlimactic.
The headlines had shifted by evening.
Where accusations had once lived, corrections now stood.
Not all of them.
Not perfectly.
But enough.
Enough to stop the bleeding.
Not enough to erase...