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getting them loaded and then off-loaded once they arrived could take up to six excruciating hours.
    With no radio, TV, or internet and the workers disallowed from waiting in the break area, the dayshift suddenly turned into a prison sentence.
    “Don’t we have all those Jaguar keyboards dumped over at the end of the dock from last time?” Alan asked. “If we’ve got the chips, the Jaguar chassis is the same as what we’re building right now. It’s just a different chip.”
    Alan searched Big Time’s face for any signs of suspicion but realized he was simply considering the suggestion.
    “Is Scott back from the inventory meeting?”
    “I can check,” Alan replied, hoping to not sound too eager.
    “Okay. Go see what he’s got in the cages.”
    Alan’s heart raced. He got the same kind of butterflies that struck every time he stepped up to the starting blocks. There was no turning back now.
    •  •  •
    Over on Line 8, Zakiyah zapped four screws into a plastic support bevel that locked the CD-ROM drive into place. She worked quickly, moving the line along but occasionally made a mistake: three screws instead of four. Sometimes two.
    She didn’t give a shit, though. She hated this job. Zakiyah spent most of the day making up little games to keep herself from looking up at the ceiling clock. Mostly, she found herself stealing glances at regular five—or ten-minute intervals. If she surprised herself by going fifteen minutes between looks, she gave herself all sorts of positive vibes. If she managed to go twenty, which only happened if she’d gone to the restroom or on some other errand, she knew it was a special kind of day. One day that she was particularly zoned out, she went fifty-five minutes between clockwatching and almost had a heart attack.
    It was only four hours ten into the day’s shift, and she was already wondering how she’d make it another seven hours fifty.
    “Hey, you left without me this morning. What’s that say to our daughter?”
    Zakiyah rolled her eyes as Alan sidled up to her. Sure, he’d been charming at one point, but after all the times he’d failed her over the past however many years, the charm had more than worn off. Most of the time, she wanted to slap him across the face for routinely making her daughter feel as if she meant less than nothing to him.
    “It says you have to take responsibility for your actions.”
    Alan scoffed.
    “’Melia said I missed you by five minutes.”
    “ Mia . She hates Melia, hates Amelia. Just ask her.”
    Alan kicked himself. The last thing he wanted to do was give Zakiyah more ammunition.
    “We’re still getting reacquainted. She might end up liking Melia.”
    “We got paid on Friday,” Zakiyah shot back, all but icing over. “I’m still waiting on your piece of the rent.”
    “Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be?”
    “We agreed that there were no more favors. This is a business arrangement. You pay rent, and I don’t go after you for child support.”
    “And I appreciate that,” Alan replied evenly. “But as you know, I’ve had some expenses. Most of them are about getting back to school in the spring. I’ve got one semester of eligibility left, and it has to count. The good news is, the way I’m running now? It will.”
    As soon as it was out of his mouth, Alan regretted his words. Up until that exact moment, he’d been vague with Zakiyah about his progress. He was sure she knew about the chart Beverly kept at the back of Line 10 but doubted she glanced at it that often.
    But it was too late to backtrack so he plowed ahead.
    “My times are good enough for Nationals, which means it’ll start being about the Olympics pretty soon. Couple of records later, and I’m running pro. For Nike . That’s only a couple of years away. Then we’ve got no worries ever again.”
    Zakiyah stared at Alan. For a brief moment, she wished she could share this dream with him. At one time, she believed it was within his grasp. This was