Chapter 25: The Report
Eduardo's report came Tuesday morning.
I was in the office. The coffee was black. The mug had the crack. The monitors showed the warehouse, the trucks, the men. The day was normal except for the thing Eduardo was about to tell me, and I could tell it wasn't going to be normal by the way he stood in the doorway, which was differently from how he usually stood, his weight shifted left, his hands clasped in front of him, the posture of a man delivering news he wasn't sure how to deliver.
"Sit," I said.
Eduardo sat. He didn't look at the monitors. He looked at me. Eduardo had been with me for seven years, and in seven years he'd learned that looking at me was the only correct thing to do when delivering information, because looking at the monitors meant avoiding, and avoiding meant the information was bad, and bad information delivered with avoidance was the combination that got people removed from my orbit.
"He talked," Eduardo said.
"Tell me."
