President-elect Chen massaged her temples as she stared at the secure phone on her desk. Three hours ago, she'd accepted what she thought would be a routine congratulatory call from the Premier of the Republic of Xiang. Now, her transition team was in chaos.

"Madam President-elect," her chief advisor, James, burst into the room waving his tablet. "It's all over the networks. The Xiangese are claiming you agreed to recognize their claim over the Western Islands."

Chen's stomach dropped. "That's not what I said. When he mentioned the territorial waters, I only said we'd be open to continued dialogue—"

"They're running with it," James interrupted, turning his tablet to show her the headlines. "Our allies in the region are demanding clarification. The Maritime Coalition is threatening to suspend trade talks."

She remembered the Premier's careful words, how he'd casually mentioned "mutual understanding of sovereign waters" between pleasantries about future cooperation. In fifteen minutes, he'd maneuvered her into a diplomatic minefield.

Chen reached for the phone again, but James caught her wrist. "We need to be strategic about this. You're not officially president for another six weeks."

"And in those six weeks, this could spiral into a crisis." She pulled her hand free. "Get me the current president on the line. And call Ambassador Wong—she knows the Premier's inner circle."

As her team scrambled, Chen drafted her statement. She'd learned during her governor years that sometimes the boldest move was admitting a mistake. The headlines tomorrow would hurt: "President-elect's Diplomatic Blunder." But better that than starting her presidency with a lie.

The secure line buzzed. The current president was waiting.

Before picking up, Chen looked at the small photo on her desk—her immigrant parents at their citizenship ceremony. "Always protect your honor," her father used to say. "Everything else can be rebuilt."

She picked up the phone, ready to navigate the fine line between peace and truth.