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“That wasn’t necessary.”

“No.” Dena adjusted the packet’s edge against her palm. “It wasn’t.”

She handed it to me instead.

“Mr. Calloway. The permit is in order.”

I took it. “Thank you for bringing it.”

“You’re welcome.” She looked at Priya. “The site plan was excellent.”

Priya tried to hide a smile and failed spectacularly.

The yard moved around us. Earl slid a panel down. Metal rang against metal. Ty’s trailer backed toward the barn, tires grinding gravel. Doc told Tuck to stop helping. Tuck promised he wasn’t, which was the first accurate assessment he’d made all morning.

Priya looked at all of it and then at me. “They need me.”

“They came before they knew you were here.”

“That doesn’t mean they don’t need coordination.”

“They’ve got coordination.”

“From whom?”

“Me.”

The answer landed. I didn’t grin when I said it. I wanted to. The grin was always ready, especially when the room got too real. But this deserved the face without it.

Priya studied me. “The event is in a few days,” she said.

“I know.”

“Half the load-in plan changed this morning.”

“I know.”

“The south barrier rental is gone.”

“Earl replaced it.”

“The original veterinary contractor withdrew.”

“Doc replaced him.”

“The livestock policy had a gap.”

“Ty closed it.”

I stepped closer. The yard kept working around us, but the space between us went still.

“You built this,” I said. “Every bit they’re following right now came out of your head. The stall numbers. The shade line. The service gaps. The stock route. The emergency plan. The permit amendment Dena drove an hour to put in my hand. You already did the work.”

“The work isn’t finished.”

“Your work is.”

Her jaw set. “That’s convenient.”