Eli put the money on the table in three piles. The first belonged to the clinic. The second would pay for the warehouse collection. The third was what he had left for rent and food.
The third pile was the smallest.
Leah counted the clinic money independently, then checked the ledger. “The first two agree. The donation promised by the grocer hasn’t arrived.”
“We don’t count it,” Eli said.
“I’m glad the lesson took.”
He slid the second pile toward Kellan’s proposed payment sheet. It would cover a preparation fee and a smaller amount on delivery. It would not match the Aegis offer, and it would not pay for Theo’s long-term treatment.
Tessa read the figures. “What if the collection is canceled after Kellan has done the preparation?”
“He keeps the first payment.”
“Write that.”
Eli did. He had once signed contracts that treated preparation as a worker’s problem and payment as something that began only when a gate yielded profit. He knew how quickly a whole day’s work could vanish under the word unsuccessful. He had still almost written the same arrangement for Kellan because the money on the table was so limited.
Tessa added a line about unsafe work. “He can refuse if the load, route or conditions make the collection unsafe.”
“Does he keep the preparation fee?”
“Yes.”
“What if the refusal is unreasonable?”
“We discuss it. The fee is for the work already done, not for agreeing with me.”
Leah noted the amount that would remain in the clinic fund. “We’ll need the volunteers to approve using this portion. They gave it for transport and supplies.”
The meeting took place before the morning appointments. Mrs. Ortega brought a cup of tea and a calculator with one missing key. Ruth brought a receipt for the bus fare she had spent collecting the delayed box. Marisol joined by phone between shifts. The supply order was paid, but collection required the cart, straps and people to move it.
“We could pay the warehouse to deliver,” Ruth said.
“At the quoted rate, we’d have less for the next patient trip,” Leah replied. “And the delivery window is later.”
“Could the warehouse change the rate?”
“I asked yesterday. They won’t.”
Mrs. Ortega pushed her calculator toward Eli. “What do we guarantee Kellan?”
He gave the figure. Ruth compared it with the delivery charge and asked whether Sera and Eli were included. Sera had agreed to help with the collection in exchange for a small fee and future training access, both conditional on the equipment being available. Eli was contributing his own time but keeping enough for the tram.
“Can we pay you something?” Mrs. Ortega asked him.
“Not from the clinic fund this time. I have another delivery shift tomorrow.”
“That’s a choice you’re making,” Tessa said. “We don’t write your time as free in every future budget.”
They agreed to use the stated amount, leaving the remainder visible on the ledger. If the job failed, the preparation payment would still go to Kellan and the clinic would need another way to collect its paid supplies. No one called the risk a donation already received.
Kellan arrived with the Aegis reporting guide. He had read it overnight and marked several paragraphs. The guide asked for dates, locations and contacts associated with Eli’s gate work. It also requested descriptions of unusual abilities observed during assignments.
“That’s more than a safety report,” Tessa said.
“Farah says the inquiry team defines relevance.” Kellan set the guide aside. “Have you got the collection terms?”
Eli handed him the sheet. Kellan read every line. When he reached the cancellation paragraph, he tapped it.
“If I refuse a load because the ramp is unsafe, is that cancellation or failure to perform?”
“Cancellation for safety. You keep the preparation fee.”
“Then say that.”
Eli added the sentence. Kellan read it again and asked what would happen if a box was damaged before the team received it. Tessa showed him the receiving sheet: they would record visible damage at handover and contact the supplier before accepting any disputed item. They could not make the warehouse liable by writing it on their own form, but the record would preserve what they saw.
Kellan turned the page over and found a smudge where the pencil had transferred through. For a moment he held the contract with his thumb over the payment figure. The preparation fee would get Theo to the appointment, but he still needed the delivery payment afterward. He asked Eli to read the revised cancellation sentence aloud. Eli stumbled over the wording; together they crossed it out and wrote a shorter version that both could explain without looking at the page.
Kellan signed. Eli paid the preparation fee from the counted pile and gave him a receipt to acknowledge. Kellan checked the notes before putting them in his wallet.
“Delivery fee after the goods reach the clinic?” he asked.
“On delivery, even if some of the order is missing and we report the shortage,” Eli said. “As long as you’ve done the agreed work.”
Kellan added that to the sheet and both initialed it. He did not smile at the amount, but his shoulders eased when he saw the payment date.
“Theo’s appointment is the morning after the job,” he said. “I’ll use this for the travel and the rest when it comes.”
“If the job is delayed?” Tessa asked.
“I’ll call the provider. I can’t assume they’ll move it.”
The agreement gave him enough to plan the immediate journey, not enough to stop worrying about the next one. He took the Aegis offer to the window and called Farah. The others continued preparing the order so he could speak without an audience.
“I won’t accept the reporting clause,” he said. “If you have construction work without it, send the terms.”
Farah’s reply was too quiet for the others to hear. Kellan listened, then said, “I understand the offer is tied to that requirement. My answer is no.”
He ended the call and looked out at the street for a moment before returning.
“That’s done.”
Eli wanted to thank him for choosing the team. Kellan had made a decision about work, money and his brother’s privacy; framing it as a gift to Eli would shrink everything else he had weighed.
“I’m glad you told us,” Eli said.
“I wanted you to know before I answered.” Kellan folded the guide. “Don’t ask me to promise I won’t take another guild job.”
“I won’t.”
“Good. I might need one.”
Sera arrived carrying a roll of webbing and the repaired marker track. She had spent the morning practicing with the two borrowed sources. Her notebook recorded four readings: two correct, one wrong, and one she had declined to call because the signals blended.
“Progress?” Eli asked.
“I stopped guessing when I couldn’t separate them.”
Kellan looked at the entries. “Three out of four useful answers.”
“Two correct positions, one wrong, one useful refusal.” She showed him the fourth line. “Don’t call it three correct.”
“I didn’t.”
She considered him. “All right. You can carry the track.”
They tested the webbing on the cart with empty cartons. Kellan showed Eli how to distribute the tension across the load rather than tightening one strap until the box walls bent. Sera took the cart around the shop and found that the rear wheel caught on the threshold when the stack was too high.
“Lower the center of weight,” Kellan said.
“Or repair the threshold.”
“Both.”
Mrs. Ortega gave them a wedge of wood. Kellan fitted it temporarily against the raised edge, then pushed the cart through. The wheel rolled over cleanly. He asked her to have the threshold repaired properly when she could afford it; a wedge could shift under repeated use.
The phone rang. Leah answered and passed it to Tessa. The warehouse supplier confirmed that the clinic’s order was ready for collection the following afternoon. The caller gave a loading-bay number, a contact name and a collection reference. Tessa asked whether the public safety notice for the building affected their appointment. The caller said the current notice allowed scheduled collection from the loading area.
“Can you send that confirmation?” she asked.
The caller emailed a short message with the lower threat rating and collection instructions. Tessa printed it and placed it with the invoice. Sera checked the address against her map.
“The entrance is the one I watched. The van used the gate on the left; collections appear to use the loading entrance on the right.”
“Can you sense anything from outside?” Eli asked.
“Sometimes. The walls and equipment produce overlapping currents. I won’t know what I can distinguish until we’re there.”
Tessa prepared a receiving sheet with the order numbers and quantities. She left spaces for damage, shortages and the name of whoever handed over the goods. A second sheet would stay at the clinic so Leah could compare what returned with what had been ordered.
“Who’s receiving here?” Leah asked.
“I can,” Tessa said.
“And if you’re treating someone when they arrive?”
Tessa looked toward the examination room. “Then you or Ruth needs the sheet and the instructions.”
Ruth volunteered. Tessa walked her through the temperature-sensitive items and the checks they required. Ruth repeated the steps, then asked what to do if the monitor showed a problem.
“Keep the box closed and separate. Call Dev or Marisol before putting anything into use.”
“Not call Aegis first?”
“The supplier for this order isn’t Aegis. Call the person qualified to assess the condition, then notify the supplier.”
Ruth wrote it down. The exercise took ten minutes and uncovered a missing contact number. Leah added it to both copies.
While Kellan adjusted the cart, Mrs. Ortega came downstairs carrying a framed photograph. She set it on the counter beside the sign-in book. It showed the shop before the breach, with bolts of cloth piled in the window and a younger Darius standing awkwardly beside her.
“He fixed the old threshold,” she said. “I told him I’d pay him in buttons. He asked for tea instead.”
Tessa picked up the photograph. Her father had one sleeve rolled up and a hammer tucked into his belt. There was dust across his trousers. She remembered the evening he came home with a blister and declared that Mrs. Ortega’s stairs were more dangerous than any gate.
Kellan looked at the makeshift wedge. “I can take measurements for a proper repair after the collection.”
“How much?” Mrs. Ortega asked.
“I’ll give you a quote. You can get another one too.”
She smiled. “Darius would have charged me tea.”
“He might have had a better business than mine.”
Tessa placed the photograph on the high shelf where it could not be knocked over by a patient signing in, and Mrs. Ortega fetched a cloth to wipe the glass. She did not offer Kellan’s work for free or ask Mrs. Ortega to decide on the spot. The threshold could wait until the collection and the appointment were behind them.
Kellan checked the cart once more before leaving. He could now pay for Theo’s travel and expected the remainder after delivery. That made the next day more than a trip to a warehouse: a delay or cancellation could change the appointment plan. Eli saw Kellan count the straps twice and understood the pressure in the movement.
“Do you want to postpone until we have a bigger vehicle?” Eli asked.
“Can we afford one?”
“No.”
“Then let’s inspect what they give us. If the load is too large for the cart, we make two trips or stop. We don’t promise a single trip before we see it.”
Sera added TWO TRIPS POSSIBLE to the plan. Eli wrote the contact number for Leah and the expected return time. They would call from the public entrance before loading and again if the schedule changed.
At closing, Tessa put the collection papers in a waterproof folder. Leah called the supplier once more to confirm the loading-bay number; a recording gave a different entrance for vehicles, so she left a message asking whether pedestrians with a cart should use the same gate. The answer would determine where the team should wait, not whether the order existed. Kellan took his copy of the payment agreement. Sera checked her communications device and found its battery low; she borrowed a charger rather than trusting it to last the next day.
Eli counted his remaining money one more time. He folded the waterproof folder closed. Tomorrow he would need to bring the supplies back and pay Kellan on time.