Interested.
Maybe surprised.
The Single Dad turned away.
Picked up his tools.
The CEO stared at his back.
“You’re leaving?”
“Soon.”
“You have to stay for validation.”
“No.”
The Senior Engineer stepped in.
“We absolutely need him.”
The Single Dad checked his watch.
“Thirty-eight minutes.”
The CEO frowned.
“Until what?”
“My daughter’s coding competition.”
Silence.
The CEO laughed once.
She thought he was joking.
He was not.
“You’re leaving this?”
She pointed toward the prototype.
“For a school competition?”
“Yes.”
“You understand what is happening here?”
“Yes.”
“A launch partner is flying in.”
“Investors are waiting.”
“The press event starts in less than an hour.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re leaving.”
“In thirty-eight minutes.”
The CEO stared.
“Why?”
The Single Dad stopped.
He looked at her as though the answer were obvious.
“Because I told her I’d be there.”
The CEO said nothing.
The Single Dad continued.
“She’s eight.”
“It’s her first competition.”
“She built a little line-following robot.”
“It probably drives badly.”
“She thinks it’s the greatest machine ever built.”
“And I promised I would sit in the front row.”
The CEO looked toward the black prototype.
Then back.
“Twelve billion dollars.”
The Single Dad nodded.
“Her robot cost forty-three.”
One mechanic laughed.
The CEO almost did.
Then something about the sentence stopped her.
He was not comparing money.
He was comparing promises.
That was different.
The Single Dad returned to the prototype.
“Run heat cycle.”
“Ten minutes.”
“Then road simulation.”
“If it stays stable, I leave.”
The Senior Engineer nodded.
They ran it.
The repair held.
The CEO stayed.
Her assistant approached twice.
“Car leaves in twenty minutes.”
“I know.”
“Board call.”
“Move it.”
“Investor team—”
“They can wait.”
The assistant looked toward the Single Dad.
Then understood.
Interesting.
The CEO noticed.
Ignored it.
During the second test, a Corporate Engineering Director arrived.
Older.
Gray hair.
Tailored navy suit.
He entered at speed.
“What happened?”
The Senior Engineer explained.
The Director looked at the repaired ground strap.
Then toward the Single Dad.
His expression changed.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
The Single Dad noticed immediately.
The Director stopped.
“You.”
The CEO looked between them.
“You know him?”
The Director did not answer.
The Single Dad closed his toolbox.
“Unfortunately.”
The CEO’s eyes narrowed.