Ninety Seconds After His Score Drops

slow enough on the floor tonight that i finally open the export nobody asked me to pull. team lead mentioned a routing audit weeks ago and never did anything with it, so i did.

the sheet timestamps every transfer against the sentiment score on the call before it. every time a customer's score drops under the line, ninety seconds later that call lands on my extension, gift wrapped as 'thought you'd handle this one better.' devon's initials are on the transfer field every single time. not most times. every time, going back six weeks.

i've thanked him to his face more than once for watching out for me. i saved my screenshots the way you save a receipt you're not sure you'll need.

i open a new email to my supervisor. subject line, routing pattern, floor two. i attach the export. i sit with my cursor on send for a long time, long enough that the little envelope icon blinks and the floor goes quiet around me again.

i close it without sending. not because i'm scared of being wrong. because for the first time since i started this job, i'm holding something nobody else on this floor has, and telling somebody would mean giving it back.