“With three people?”
“Four.”
“Noah isn’t cleared for full work.”
“I meant me.”
“You’re currently running the office, taking Noah to appointments, managing the insurance claim, sleeping approximately forty minutes a night, and doing every difficult job because you’re convinced delegation is a moral failure.”
“I delegated the trawler to you.”
“You came down and immediately climbed into it.”
“I remained outside the hatch.”
“Growth.”
I set the ruined box on the bench.
“We need the contract.”
“I know.”
“I’ll call Marisol at Harbor Transit.”
“She wants an answer before three.”
“What else?”
Owen hesitated.
That was never a good sign.
“The electrical wholesaler froze our account.”
My stomach tightened.
“Which account?”
“Main trade account.”
“Why?”
“They said last month’s payment failed.”
I knew exactly why.
The insurance reimbursement had arrived, but only enough to cover wages and a portion of the van replacement. I had moved money twice to keep payroll intact, then used the remaining reserve to pay the mortgage.
The wholesaler’s debit had landed in the wrong twelve-hour window.
“I’ll fix it.”
“We need shore-power cable and isolation transformers by Friday.”
“I said I’ll fix it.”
Owen’s gaze stayed on me.
