Snapback never arrived with noise.
It arrived with correction.
The first correction came from outside the system.
Late.
Urgent.
Unprepared.
An inquiry landed mid-morning formal, cautious, framed as concern. It referenced assumptions that were no longer valid, timelines that had already collapsed inward.
"They're reacting," Adrian said.
"Yes," I replied. "After the window closed."
Reaction after tightening was never graceful.
The request asked for clarification.
Not data.
Interpretation.
They wanted reassurance that the constraints were temporary.
"That's the tell," Adrian said.
"Yes," I replied. "Temporary is the word people use when permanence scares them."
I didn't reassure.
I clarified.
One paragraph.
Neutral tone.
No concessions.
The reply came quickly.
Too quickly.
"They didn't read it," Adrian said.
"Yes," I replied. "They scanned for comfort."
Comfort wasn't there.
Internally, the snapback rippled first through coordination.
