I looked at the photographs. "And what would you have done?"
"Listened. Then made the cut anyway if the evidence held."
That was how she worked. She did not confuse independence with refusing correction. She asked questions until people got tired of answering, accepted technical expertise where she lacked it, and then reserved the final decision for the person who would bear the consequence. There was pride in that, yes, but there was also discipline. The distinction became visible on the day Wyatt returned for the planned conversion.
He took only a small number of carefully placed slabs. The largest was a little over thirteen feet long, wide enough that moving it safely required multiple people and handling equipment, and crossed the finest section of figure Maren had identified. The newly exposed surfaces confirmed some of her map and contradicted other parts. One promising area ended in a concealed defect. Another showed more continuity than she had dared expect. The work was slower and more expensive than a standard breakdown because the object they were protecting wasn't a number of boards. It was the orientation of one unique pattern through the tree.
When the selected slabs were safely supported, Maren stood beside the longest and ran her hand across the transition from char to clean redwood. She could see the table she'd drawn, but she could also see open checks and the dampness of fresh material. Nothing about it was ready for use in a conditioned room. Redwood of that thickness required a careful drying process, monitoring, and the willingness to reject a piece that moved or checked beyond what the intended design could tolerate. The wood had no reason to care about her overdue bills or an architect's meeting calendar.
She worked with Shaw and a specialist kiln operator to develop a plan appropriate to the selected material. The prototype slab was handled separately under professional supervision, with conditioning and repeated checks rather than a wish and a hot room. She made the project smaller where necessary, adjusted the table's construction to accommodate the wood's movement, and accepted that some surfaces might not be ready for the stage she had imagined. Every measurement went into a notebook, because a beautiful slab that split after delivery would not be a success, no matter how well it photographed. She needed the piece to survive in someone's home long after the story of its discovery had stopped entertaining people.
At one point the testing showed a moisture difference between sections that worried her. She called the kiln operator and asked what it meant. He told her what he knew, what he couldn't know without time, and how further changes in the material could affect the design. Maren waited. The booth she was considering in the Bay Area had an application deadline approaching, and every day of waiting felt like watching opportunity close. She could have forced the schedule and hoped for the best. Instead she told Annie that the tree had taken decades to make the figure and could have the additional time it needed to become sound furniture.