Chapter 3 - The Minutes That Disappeared
During her first week, Jada learned where the coffee was, which printer jammed, and how often people said “that’s how we’ve always done it” when they did not know the answer.
Elena gave her access only to the systems she needed.
No secret passwords.
No unrestricted authority.
Just spreadsheets, archived reports, and a written procedure for flagging inconsistencies.
Jada liked the procedure.
It made clear where her responsibility ended and someone else’s began.
By Wednesday, she had found twelve route summaries with repeated values.
By Thursday, she understood why some were harmless.
A reporting template sometimes carried the last available reading forward until the next device update. The original data remained intact, but the summary could look more complete than it was.
“That’s a reporting weakness,” Elena said. “Document it separately.”
Jada did.
Then she found something else.
A route marked complete at eleven forty-six had not reached its receiving facility until twelve twenty-eight.
Forty-two minutes had disappeared.
The source device recorded an interruption. The summary showed uninterrupted monitoring.
Jada checked the vehicle number twice.
Then the date.
Then the time zone.
When none explained it, she sent Elena a short message.
Potential mismatch. Sources attached. I cannot determine cause.
Elena appeared six minutes later.
“Show me.”
Jada did.
Her supervisor asked careful questions.
Had she altered the files?
No.
Had she contacted the driver?
No.
Had she drawn conclusions about the product?
No.
Elena nodded.
“Good.”
“What happens now?”
“I refer it to the people responsible for the shipment and the system.”
“Should I keep looking?”
“Within the assignment. Don’t expand it yourself.”
That afternoon, Gavin stopped beside Jada’s desk.
She had seen him twice since starting.
Neither encounter had involved conversation.
“How’s our new analyst?”
“Learning.”
“I hear you’ve been busy.”
“Elena gave me several reports.”
He looked toward the office windows.
“Reports can be misleading when you don’t understand operations.”
“That’s why I’m asking questions.”
“Questions create work for people who already have more than enough.”
Jada felt heat rise beneath her collar.
She kept her voice steady.
“I’m following the assignment.”
Gavin smiled without warmth.
“Make sure you understand whose business you’re in.”
After he left, Jada sat motionless.
At her old job, she would have swallowed the exchange and worked faster.
Instead, she wrote down the words while she still remembered them.
Then she sent Elena a factual account.
No adjectives.
No interpretation.
Just the conversation.
Elena called her into the office.
“Has he said anything else?”
“No.”
“All right. Keep working. I’ll handle the reporting line.”
Jada went home afraid anyway.
Denise noticed before she had taken off her shoes.
“Who said what?”
Jada laughed despite herself.
“How do you do that?”
“Twenty-six years of people claiming they’re fine while bleeding on my uniform.”
They sat at the kitchen table.
Jada explained without sharing confidential details.
Denise listened.
Then she asked, “Did your supervisor tell you to stop?”
“No.”
“Did you do something outside your job?”
“No.”
“Then don’t let one man’s tone become a termination notice.”
Jada stared at her.
“That should be embroidered on something.”
“I’m available for motivational pillows.”
The next morning, a driver waited outside Elena’s office.
His name badge read BEN ORTIZ.
He looked exhausted.
Elena introduced them and explained that Ben had agreed to clarify one of the records.
Jada recognized the route immediately.
Forty-two minutes.
Ben rubbed both hands over his face.
“I reported the interruption.”
“To whom?” Elena asked.
“Dispatch. Twice.”
“Do you have the messages?”
He nodded.
“I kept them.”
Jada felt something settle in her chest.
Not triumph.
Recognition.
She had met drivers like Ben before: people blamed for delays caused by equipment they did not control and schedules they did not create.
Ben looked at her.
“You’re the woman from the coffee shop?”
Jada blinked.
“How do you know that?”
“I was on the phone with Tom.”
The morning rearranged itself.
The voice.
Forty-four and still climbing.
Ben gave a tired smile.
“He told us somebody reminded him to stop apologizing and start moving.”
“I didn’t know I was joining the company.”
“Neither did we.”
Elena returned to the records.
“Let’s stay with the timeline.”
Ben nodded.
He showed the messages.
Then one more.
A response from dispatch.
Use the standard closeout. Mercer already approved.
Nobody spoke for a moment.
Outside the window, trucks moved through the yard beneath the company’s silver promise.
May you like
Every degree mattered.
Jada was beginning to understand that somebody had decided some minutes did not.
