The sting of it is so specific. A paper cut isn’t a grand injury, it’s a tiny, razor-thin betrayal by something you’re supposed to trust, like an envelope. It’s the small, overlooked edge that does the real damage. You don’t notice it until you’re bleeding. I’m pressing my thumb against the conference room table, a tiny line of red welling up, and watching Dave try to sell us on a candidate for the senior engineering role.

A silence hangs in the air, thick and expectant. Sarah, from product, leans forward. “A go-getter how? Can you give us the example Marcus used?”