The workers looked at each other, some of them nodding slowly.

“My parents are trying to force a sale,” I told them honestly. “They want to sell our routes to Apex.”

“Apex pays half of what Northline pays,” Marcus muttered from his forklift.

“I know,” I said. “And if they take over, this facility will be shut down within a month.”

I pointed toward the snow falling outside the open bay door.

“The state hospital in Denver needs this insulin by tomorrow morning,” I said. “The kids at the pediatric wing are counting on us.”

“We don’t have enough drivers to clear the roads,” the older loader said. “The pass is iced over.”

“Then we go the long way,” I said. “We use the southern bypass. I’ll drive the lead rig myself.”

Calvin looked at me, his eyes widening. “Avery, you haven’t driven a commercial rig in five years.”

“I still have my license, Calvin,” I said. “And Elliot taught me how to handle these roads.”

The warehouse was silent for a long moment, save for the wind whistling through the doors.