He nodded.
“I am.”
“Then stop.”
“No.”
The word carried farther than shouting would have.
“You held that aircraft for three hours.”
A few mechanics looked toward Charles Wynn.
“He told me not to touch it because you wanted the problem preserved for this meeting.”
Vanessa turned toward Charles.
Charles looked ill.
Ethan continued.
“You brought a board liaison.”
He pointed lightly toward the finance staff.
“Finance.”
Then Logan.
“And a man none of us works with.”
Every eye moved toward Pierce.
Vanessa’s face hardened.
“His presence is not your concern.”
“That’s the problem.”
She folded her arms.
“You think everything is a conspiracy because you were asked to perform under pressure?”
“No.”
Ethan almost smiled.
“I think you wanted everyone to watch me fail.”
“Why would I want that?”
“So my leaving becomes my fault.”
A murmur moved through the hangar.
Vanessa took a step forward.
“That is an outrageous accusation.”
“Maybe.”
“You have no evidence.”
“Maybe.”
“You could destroy your career over paranoia.”
Ethan looked at the clock.
Still frozen at 0:31.
Then back at her.
“I know one thing.”
“What?”
“I don’t trust the person judging my work anymore.”
That landed.
Vanessa did not answer immediately.
Ethan continued.
“And once that’s gone, I don’t know what I’m staying for.”
Mike moved closer.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
“Ethan, wait.”
Ethan looked at him.
Mike’s eyes were wet.
Angrily wet.
“You can’t just walk.”
“I can.”
“You’ve got ten years here.”
Ethan nodded.
“I know.”
Vanessa seized the line.
“Exactly.”
Her voice sharpened.
“If you walk through that door, the resignation is voluntary.”
“Good.”
“No severance.”
“Fine.”
“No transition package.”
“Fine.”
“You’re giving up ten years.”
Ethan shook his head.
“No.”
He looked around the hangar.
Faces he knew.
Mike.
Janice.
Trevor.
Luis.
Young Aaron, nineteen months into the job and still terrified every time an inspector asked a question.
“I already spent the ten years.”
He looked back at Vanessa.
“I’m not giving them up.”
Even she had no answer.
He picked up the tool case.
“Take care of each other,” he told the mechanics.
Then he walked toward the employee door.
Vanessa called after him.
“You’ll regret making a career decision in anger.”
Ethan stopped.
He turned.
For the first time that afternoon, sadness showed.
“I’m not angry enough.”
Then he left.
Outside, cold air struck his face.
The parking lot looked exactly the same as it had that morning.
Truck under the same light.
Fuel vehicle moving across the ramp.
Clouds crossing slowly.
Nothing had changed.
Except everything.
Ethan sat inside the truck.