I spotted Derek immediately.

His yellow vest was spotless, but his face was already red from the heat.

He was carrying a heavy aluminum mounting rail on his shoulder, his knees bending under the weight.

Marcus, the supervisor, was standing nearby with a clipboard, watching him closely.

I walked over to the trailer, trying not to draw attention to myself.

“He’s slow,” Marcus said, not looking at me as I approached.

“But is he working?” I asked.

“He hasn’t complained yet,” Marcus said, squinting through the glare. “But he doesn’t know how to use a socket wrench properly. I had to show him twice.”

“Keep him on the heavy lifting,” I said. “He needs to learn the hard way.”

“He’s your brother, Dr. Mitchell,” Marcus said, finally turning to look at me. “You sure you want him out here? This isn’t a summer camp.”

“I know exactly what it is, Marcus,” I said. “Treat him like anyone else.”

Marcus nodded, his expression neutral. “Fair enough.”

I watched Derek for another five minutes.

He dropped a bolt into the dirt, knelt to find it, and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a dirty forearm.