From A Producer To A Chapter 412: Meeting set

Chapter 412: eting set

The night didn’t slow anything down.

By the ti Sharon finished sending out the last ssage, responses had already started coming back in. Not full reports, not anything polished, but enough fragnts to show movent. Numbers from one contact, rough mapping from another, voice notes from soone who had clearly just stepped outside to talk without being overheard. It wasn’t clean, but it was fast, and that was what she needed.

She stood near the table with her phone still in her hand, scanning through updates as they ca in, then cross-checking them against what she already had open on her laptop. Every few seconds she would pause, adjust sothing, type a short reply, then move to the next piece of information. There was no wasted motion in it. She wasn’t trying to understand everything perfectly yet, she was trying to get a working picture that could hold under pressure.

Across the room, Dayo hadn’t moved far from the window.

The city stretched out below him, headlights threading through the roads, small clusters of people still moving at that hour like the day hadn’t really ended for them. He watched it, but not in a distracted way. His eyes followed patterns. Traffic density. Movent near junctions. The sa thing he had seen earlier, just from a different angle now.

He didn’t need Sharon to explain what she was building.

He already knew where it was going.

After a while, she turned the laptop fully toward him and spoke without looking up from the screen.

"I’ve got enough to confirm it," she said. "Not detailed yet, but clear."

He walked back over, stopping beside her instead of across from her. Close enough to see everything without needing her to point.

She tapped the screen once.

"Public schools alone, we’re dealing with hundreds. Student population easily in the hundreds of thousands. That part isn’t even the problem. The problem is how they’re moving."

He scanned the figures quickly, not lingering on any one number for too long. His attention shifted to the layout instead. The way the data was grouped. The overlaps.

Sharon continued, more direct now.

"There’s no structured transport system for most of them. What exists is scattered. Private arrangents here and there, so schools trying to manage sothing small, but nothing that covers even a fraction of the need."

She switched tabs.

"These are the risk zones. Roads near schools with heavy traffic and no proper crossing control. No lights, no enforcent, nothing. The sa kind of place where what happened today happens."

Dayo’s eyes moved across the map slowly, following the highlighted areas.

"I expected that," he said.

Sharon nodded once. She wasn’t trying to convince him of anything. She was confirming scale.

"What you saw today," she added, "that’s not an exception. That’s normal movent for them."

He didn’t respond to that imdiately. He already knew it. The father had said enough in the hospital. The rest was just confirmation.

She leaned back slightly in her chair, giving him space to process without breaking the flow.

"If you try to solve this privately," she said, "you already know where it breaks."

He glanced at her briefly, then back at the screen.

"Control," he said.

"Exactly," she replied. "Control, coordination, sustainability. You can’t just buy buses and drop them in. Soone has to manage them, assign routes, maintain them, track usage. That’s not sothing you improvise."

He nodded once. His mind was already ahead of the conversation.

"State control," he said.

"Yes."

There was a short pause, not because either of them was unsure, but because the next part didn’t need explaining.

Dayo stepped away from the table, walking a few paces before stopping again. This ti he didn’t go back to the window. He stayed closer, hands in his pockets, thinking through structure instead of visuals.

"They’ve been trying to reach

before this," he said.

Sharon didn’t look up from the laptop.

"I know. Different offices, different people. So direct, so through interdiaries."

He gave a small nod.

"Election cycle," he said.

"Yes."

"They wanted visibility."

"Yes."

He turned slightly, looking at her now.

"I didn’t respond."

"I know."

That part didn’t need expanding. It was already established. He had stayed away from it deliberately, not out of ignorance, but because he understood what ca with it.

He wasn’t new to political environnts. Just not this one.

He took a breath, not deep, just enough to reset his focus.

"This is different," he said.

Sharon closed the laptop halfway, giving him her full attention now.

"Yes."

He didn’t rush the next part. He wasn’t reacting. He was adjusting position.

"I need access," he said. "Not association."

She nodded imdiately. That distinction mattered.

"And control over execution," he added. "Or at least visibility."

"That will be the difficult part," she said.

"I know."

Another pause settled in, but it wasn’t heavy. It was structured. Both of them were already aligned on the direction, they were just tightening the edges of it.

Sharon picked up her phone again, scrolling through contacts as she spoke.

"There are two ways to approach it," she said. "Formal request through the ministry, or through one of the aides who has already been trying to get your attention."

"Formal," he said without hesitation.

She glanced up briefly.

"That keeps it clean," he continued. "No favors, no assumptions."

She gave a small nod.

"They won’t expect that."

"That’s fine."

She stopped scrolling for a second, then looked at him properly.

"They’re still going to test you," she said. "Not directly, but in how they respond."

He almost smiled, but it didn’t fully form.

"They should."

She held his gaze for a mont, then went back to her phone.

"I’ll structure it as a policy discussion," she said. "Student transport and safety. Data-backed. No dia angle."

"Good."

She started typing, her tone shifting into sothing more precise.

"I’ll request a eting with the education office first. That’s the cleanest entry point."

"Education controls the schools," he said. "Transport cos after."

"Exactly."

She sent the first ssage, then imdiately started drafting a second.

"Once that’s acknowledged," she continued, "we can pull transport into it as a secondary discussion. That way it doesn’t look scattered."

He leaned against the table slightly, watching her work.

"They’re going to try to read intention," she added. "Why now, why you, what you want from it."

"They can ask," he said. "I’ll answer what matters."

She paused, then looked up again.

"And if they try to redirect it?"

He didn’t need ti to think about that.

"I bring it back," he said. "If they push too far off it, I end the eting."

Her expression didn’t change much, but she registered that.

"That will make an impression."

"That’s the point."

She let out a small breath, not frustration, just acknowledgnt of how this would play out.

"They’re also going to try to place you," she said. "Figure out if you’re soone they can work with long term, or soone passing through."

"I’m not staying in their system," he said. "I’m using it."

That landed exactly how it should.

She nodded once, then went back to finishing the ssages.

The room settled into a quieter rhythm again, but it wasn’t the sa quiet from earlier. This one had direction behind it. Every movent had a purpose now.

After a few minutes, her phone buzzed again.

This ti she didn’t ignore it.

She read the ssage quickly, then looked at Dayo.

"They’ve acknowledged the request," she said.

"That was fast."

"They’ve been waiting for you to respond to sothing. This just gave them a reason."

He nodded.

"What did they say?"

"Preliminary eting. No dia. They want to understand what you’re proposing before anything formal."

"That’s expected."

She studied the ssage again, then added,

"They also asked if this is tied to any organization or if you’re coming in independently."

Dayo shook his head slightly.

"Independent."

"I’ll respond that way."

She typed quickly, sent the reply, then set the phone down for a mont.

There was a short stretch of silence, but it wasn’t empty. It was the kind that cos right before movent.

Sharon leaned back in her chair slightly, watching him.

"You know what this does, right?" she asked.

He didn’t answer imdiately, but not because he didn’t understand the question.

"It changes how they see ," he said.

"Yes."

"And how everything I do after this is interpreted."

"Yes."

He nodded once.

"I’m fine with that."

She held his gaze for a second longer, then gave a small nod.

"Then we move."

He stepped away from the table again, this ti heading back toward the window, but his focus wasn’t on the city anymore.

It was on what ca next.

Not the eting itself.

What he needed from it.

What he wouldn’t accept.

What he would walk away from if it started going the wrong direction.

Behind him, Sharon picked her laptop back up and reopened it, already adjusting the data into sothing cleaner, sothing presentable. Not for show, but for clarity. If the conversation was going to happen, it needed to be structured enough that it couldn’t be easily dismissed or redirected.

Outside, the city kept moving like it always did.

Inside, the direction had already changed.

And for the first ti since the incident, the focus wasn’t on what had happened.

It was on what was about to be done.