ALLIANCE CAPITAL — FIRST JOY STRUCTURE COMMITTEE — 9:00 A.M.
"I hate this already."
Director Chen adjusted her glasses and glared at the banner draft like it had personally insulted legal theory.
Across the top, in cheerful painted letters, someone—absolutely Ezra—had written:
## **THE DAY WE KEPT IT TOGETHER**
Below that, smaller:
*A public celebration of maintenance, memory, and ordinary continuity.*
"It sounds like a holiday designed by a nervous archivist and a baker in love," Chen said.
"Thank you," said one of the bakers on the committee.
"That was not praise."
I sat at the center table with Sera, Kieran, Lily, Mira, Kassandra, two school delegates, three union representatives, a municipal events planner who looked five minutes from breakdown, and enough draft schedules to wage war on joy itself.
This was our newest initiative.
The next phase of the counter-architecture.
Not memorial.
Not warning.
Not vigilance.
Reward.
