Chapter 10: The Indivisible Moment

Tuesday morning brought a sharp, biting wind off the Hudson, rattling the old sash windows of the library archive. Ethan arrived shaking the cold from his coat, carrying a cardboard tray with two coffees and a small, wax-paper bag.

Eleanor was already at the desk, her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose, reviewing a stack of printouts. She sniffed the air. "Blueberry?"

"Close. Huckleberry scones from a place in the West Village. And a Geisha pour-over, black."

Eleanor accepted the coffee with a rare, genuine smile. "Excellent. You’re learning that precision matters in coffee just as much as in code."

Ethan pulled up a chair. "Speaking of precision, I was thinking about last week. We fixed the data race in the counter …

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