If Santiago were superstitious, he might have believed he had caused it simply by naming it. The way certain cultures warned against speaking a thing aloud after dark, as though the dark were listening.
He wasn’t superstitious, though. In fact, he would go as far as to say he didn’t believe in what he couldn’t see or touch with his hands. So he knew exactly what this was, not fate, not irony, just the quiet machinery of whoever held his drive finally deciding the time was right. They had been patient. He would give them that.
He read the email again, even though at this point he could practically see the words flash behind his closed lids with little effort.
...concerns regarding the firm's current strategic direction... at this time, we feel it prudent to reassess our position before
