The interview day for the second branches began at 8:01 a.m. with Nina staring at the printed applicant list, then at the original staff gathered around the café counter, then back at the list again as if enough disbelief might cause half the names to disappear.
It did not.
There were thirty-two applicants for the east-side Lantern & Ledger branch.
Twenty-six for the river-road workshop.
And, according to the county rumor boards, at least fifty more people who would have applied if they believed they had any chance at all of surviving the family.
Marco took the workshop stack, flipped through three résumés, and said, “No.”
Eli glanced over his shoulder. “What.”
Marco slapped the first page down on the counter.
“‘Fast learner, works well under pressure, enjoys dynamic environments.’”
He looked up, dead-eyed.
“That is not enough.”
“It’s coffee and cars,” Jenna offered weakly.
The whole old staff turned to look at her.
Tasha spoke first.
“No.”
Marta second.
“Absolutely not.”
Then Nina, with the grave patience of a woman forced by fate to explain apocalypse-adjacent labor realities to civilians, said:
“It is coffee, cars, monsters, blood cleanup, emergency cover stories, tactical lying, and occasionally pretending nothing happened while an owner comes back from hunting with a ripped sleeve and asks if the cinnamon rolls are done.”
Jenna nodded slowly. “Right. Forgot.”
“You did,” Tasha said. “That’s how unqualified people die.”