A year earlier, Vanessa would have seen idleness.
This time she looked first at the clock.
Then at the fault board.
Declared response start: 5:52 a.m.
Current time: 4:47 p.m.
She looked at Ethan.
"How long have they been on it?"
"Since six."
"Coverage?"
"Second team has the line for twenty minutes."
Vanessa nodded.
She looked at the technicians.
"Take ten. You earned it."
One of them smiled uncertainly.
"Policy says twenty after eight hours."
Vanessa blinked.
Ethan looked away to hide his expression.
"Then take twenty," she said.
The technician lifted his cup slightly.
"Thank you."
Vanessa continued down the aisle.
Ethan caught up with her near line five.
"You almost shorted them ten minutes."
"I was being inspirational."
"Policy is policy."
"I hate you a little."
"That's healthy governance."
She laughed.
Then she stopped beside the same type of metal ledge where Ethan had once set down a paper cup.
For a moment, both remembered.
Vanessa spoke first.
"I've thought about that morning more times than I want to admit."
Ethan leaned against the railing.
"I figured."
"Do you?"
"You ask more questions now. People don't change habits for no reason."
Vanessa looked toward line six.
"I spent years learning how to make decisions quickly. Every turnaround I was praised for involved speed. Cut the bad program. Replace the weak manager. Close the unprofitable line. Don't hesitate because hesitation gets expensive."
Ethan listened.
"Nobody taught me that sometimes speed is the expensive part."
"They probably did."
Vanessa looked at him.
"You think?"
"Somebody probably said it. You just weren't ready to hear it."
She considered that.
"Also possible."
The line behind them restarted.