Monday mornings are bad enough on their own. This one feels deliberate.

I wake with a knot already twisted tight beneath my ribs, the kind that doesn’t fade with coffee or logic. My alarm buzzes like an accusation. For a moment, I consider ignoring it—pretending the world won’t keep spinning if I stay still.

But it will.

And today is the kickoff for the Portland expansion project.

The one Danny Lancaster is running.

I drag myself out of bed and move through my routine on autopilot. ...