This is an exercise to see how much of a story I can type in five minutes.
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The acquisitions didn’t make sense. They were just prestige ones, ones for the people at Berill to say they’d gotten a piece of their old enemy. Wilson doubted the plants would be producing for much longer-a few years, before either being sold off again or closed down.
Even if they lasted, they were still being downsized-that much was certain. Berill needed them to be profitable, or at least try to be. And it was harder than ever to manage such an unwieldy conglomerate.
So, Wilson left.