Uneven enforcement.
Managers rewarded primarily for short-term delivery metrics.
Victor had not broken laws.
He had done something more ordinary.
He had built a system around the assumption that good workers absorbed whatever the company demanded.
Evelyn no longer believed Arcturus could afford that assumption.
Daniel read the announcement twice.
He expected satisfaction.
What he felt instead was relief.
Small.
Quiet.
The world had corrected itself by several degrees.
No more than that.
But several degrees can change a destination.
His new schedule was imperfect.
Three days primarily from Sunridge.
Two days in Portland when implementation required it.
Some weeks one.
Some weeks three.
Lily attended a summer art program at the community center Tuesday and Thursday mornings.
Georgia Morales ran the class.
Six children.
No pressure.
No forced introductions.
On the first day Lily sat alone.
On the third, a boy named Theo placed a dinosaur drawing beside her bird.
Lily looked at it.
Then drew mountains behind the dinosaur.
Theo added another dinosaur.
Lily added trees.
By the following week they had created an entire world.
Theo made creatures.
Lily made places for them to live.
Daniel showed the pictures to Dr. Reeves during a video appointment.
Paula smiled.
“Don’t make it too important.”
Daniel rolled his eyes.
“You always say that when something is important.”
“I say it because if you make every improvement carry the weight of recovery, she’ll feel the weight too.”
Daniel nodded.
“Let it be a picture.”
“A picture.”
“Let sitting beside Theo be sitting beside Theo.”
“Okay.”
He was learning.
Slowly.
Three weeks later, Daniel was weeding the front garden.
Lily sat on the porch.
Biscuit beside her.
Before the accident they had a small routine whenever Daniel worked outside.
He would clear weeds from a patch, lean back, and ask, “Clear?”
Lily, usually busy talking about something completely unrelated, would glance over and answer, “Clear.”