The firm’s site visit had the gravity of a small ceremony. Men in steel-toe boots, clipboards, and polite skepticism walked our finished porch with the kind of attention only people who pay for other people’s work can muster. Mark met them with his usual steady voice and the quiet pride of someone who’d rather show than promise. I stood a few paces away, hands tucked into my jacket pockets, watching his jaw work as he explained joist spacing, fastener choices, and the reasoning behind our non-skid treads.
When the procurement manager’s phone lit with a photo she’d asked for—one of the ramp’s angle, the firmly set handrails—she didn’t ask for anything more. The nod she gave Mark as she tapped out a message was small and formal, but to us it was everything: the posture of a decision forming
