The room emptied quickly.
Decisions that go your way end like that. People pleased, plenty to do, somewhere to be next.
I stayed behind to gather my things. The high-level plan still up on the screen. Someone’s coffee going cold.
Days of work had gone into that plan. And at the end of it, the question that was always coming: when. I’d looked at the most senior person in the room and given them a date.
Now it was minuted. We were doing it. My name was on it.
That’s when it arrived. Not before — before, it was still an estimate, still mine to shape. After. Alone in the room, having just promised something none of us could fully see the path to.
The plan was good. The team was good. And still.
In an hour I’d be with them, telling them the news, sounding sure. I was sure — that’s the strange part. Both things were true at once.
