The chair called the session to order. Daniel sat back, placed Nathan’s little knot pin inside his jacket pocket, and waited for Imani’s name to be called. When she stood, he didn’t follow. She walked to the microphone on her own feet, with a room full of people prepared to hear her.
Anika called Daniel aside before the meeting began and gave him one last practical warning. A journalist had requested interviews with Nathan’s children, and several people in the front row already knew the story they wanted to tell: a poor young waiter, an aging crime boss, a famous surname, and a dramatic reckoning. It would also leave the workers standing outside the frame.
“You can say no to interviews,” Anika said. “You don’t owe strangers the most painful part of your life.”
Daniel thanked her. He looked over at Imani, who was testing the height of the microphone with the assistance of a custodian. She was laughing at something the custodian said. Daniel realized how little he knew about her beyond the conflict: whether she liked music, whether she planned to leave the city, whether she wanted to cook for a living or simply needed the next paycheck. He knew her courage because he’d witnessed it under pressure, but he didn’t know her whole life. He hoped the people voting on her job would remember that distinction.
June joined him by the aisle. “You have a speech?”
“Two pages.”
“Then use the second page first.”
“You haven’t read it.”
“I’ve heard you explain the beginning three times.”
He folded the first page behind the second. On the front, in handwriting made uneven by a hurried train ride, he’d written one sentence that seemed clearer than all the others: A job should not require someone to buy the chance to be treated fairly.
When the clerk invited the first group of speakers forward, Daniel remained seated. Across the auditorium, Marcel straightened his coat and looked at the exit. For a second Daniel thought the old man might leave. Then Marcel placed his injured hand flat against his knee and stayed where he was.
Chapter Nine: The Hearing
The redevelopment hearing filled the municipal auditorium on Monday morning. Celia Brandt arrived with polished presentation boards and a team of consultants. Daniel came with June, Ada, Imani, Rafael, Tomas, and twenty other workers. Marcel entered separately, his injured hand tucked inside his coat.
The first hour was ordinary civic theater. Consultants described foot traffic, parking spaces, projected revenue, and the bright future of the waterfront. Celia presented the cooperative’s name as a historical tribute, emphasizing the community spirit of the old docks.
Then Imani approached the microphone.
“I was told to pay for training before I could receive a shift,” she said. “I borrowed the money. I still haven’t been paid for the hours I worked.”
