Morning.
Everything was functioning. The numbers aligned. The crates moved. The workers followed their markings.
But nothing was neutral anymore.
Arthur stood at the planning table, reviewing the overnight receipts. His eyes moved down the column of figures. His pen marked two exceptions.
But he tracked Vivian's position without looking.
He knew when she entered the records room across the pavilion. He knew when she stepped out to speak with a worker. He knew when she paused by the eastern window to review a document.
He didn't look at her. But he noticed everything.
Vivian worked normally. Spoke normally. Reviewed reports, issued instructions, signed approvals.
But she didn't keep distance anymore.
She walked past his side of the table instead of around it. She handed him documents from beside him, not across from him. She stood close enough that their sleeves almost brushed when she reached for the same file.
No avoidance.
That was the difference.
---
