For half a second, Leona Hartwell says nothing.
That alone already feels like a victory.
Her honey-colored eyes stay locked on the four Plates on the table, unblinking. The smile is still there, but it's lost its recklessness. Zhang Xi looks at the money too, then at me, and her serenity cracks just enough for me to catch it.
Leona props both elbows on the table and leans forward.
"Four Plates," she says, slowly. "Xi, tell me this kid didn't just drop a gold mine on the table like it was a tip."
Zhang Xi breathes in.
"He has that habit."
"Terrible habit." Leona points at the Plates. "How is this possible? I was picturing five, seven Shards a job. Ten if the owner was desperate and the duct looked like a monster's throat."
"That's the mistake," I say. "The maintenance fee is the smallest part."
"Then what's the biggest?"
"The sludge."
She stares at me.
"You're telling me the contaminated residue turns into Shards?"
