Rain hit at three forty-two p.m. Heavy. Steady. Wind caught the north roof seam. Metal sheet lifted. Bolt sheared. Water poured through the gap. Pooled on the concrete floor. Spilled toward bay two. Cardboard pallets soaked. Labels curled. Elena dropped the ledger. Grabbed a flashlight. Pushed through the bay door. Wind hit her coat. Rain tracked down her face.
Mateo already on the loading dock. Phone pressed to his ear. Voice raised over the storm. "Two crews. Bay two and bay four. Bring heavy-duty tarps. Sixty mil thickness. Rope rated at two thousand pounds. Arrive in twenty minutes. Route through the south access. Keep the main gate clear." He hung up. Pulled a rain jacket from a crate. Zipped it. Grabbed a tool bag. "Wind sheared the north seam," he said. "Fasteners pulled out. We anchor a tarp over the breach. Divert water to the catch basin. Keep the floor dry."
