Sera knew she had been noticed when the second handcart stopped moving.
She had returned to the depot by the public loading side and kept the position Olin had permitted. From there she could see the yard, the outer doors and the turn into the street. She could not see who entered through the rear rooms. That blind angle mattered, but crossing it without permission would change the work she was doing.
A teenage loader had asked her to move her boot so he could sweep broken glass. She had stepped aside and asked which door served the repair deliveries. He had pointed, wiped his nose on his sleeve and returned to his broom. Nothing in the exchange should have mattered to anyone watching.
Now a woman in a depot armband had taken the broom from him. A broad man stood between the boy and the street. The second handcart waited because its two pushers had turned to listen.
Sera moved before she had heard the words clearly.
The broad man put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and steered him through the outer door. The teenager resisted just enough to make himself stumble. Nobody struck him. That did not make the grip voluntary.
