The missing name belonged to someone expected to be there before us and leave after us.
That was why nobody had put it on the student sheet.
"The maintenance supervisor counts the crew," the assistant explained. "We count the class. Both reports go to the entrance station."
He opened the smaller folder. Its first page carried a shift number, a work area, and a space for the supervisor's signature. No individual names.
"What happens if the supervisor goes out first?" I asked.
"The crew comes out together."
"That's the plan. I'm asking what happens if they don't."
Veylan, who had been speaking with the other instructor near the board, came back to our table. He read the page without interrupting. Around us, the break lost its noise.
I could feel the class waiting for Cedric to discover a servant had inconvenienced his schedule. Some were probably hoping for it. A familiar problem required less attention than an unfamiliar one.
