al pressure that made it hard to breathe. An administr

for interview orde

up. One by one, they

lve!" one g

ght," anot

ed. He reached in and pulled out a sli

e announced loud

op of the morning. Whil

y empty. He reached deep into the c

5

pulled 34, looked like he was about to faint. "It's the death slot

d hates you, Zimmerman. Have fun talking to a w

. He looked at

spair. He felt a

that every day at 4:00 PM, Reynolds' blood sugar crashed, making him irritable and n

lds would be awake, energized, and-crucially-bored out of his mind

perate for some

icipal Infrastructure Maintenance: A

g. Kyler emerged at 11:00 AM, looking triumphant. "Crushed it,

a protein bar. He needed to stay sharp, no

s the floor. The room emptied. Finally, it w

nutes later, he came out loo

Zimmerman," the

d his cheap jacket. He didn't rush. He took a

heavy oak door. H

ning hit him. The smell o

a long table. They looked wrec

chocolate from the corner of his mouth.

ct ti

h to the chair. He stood by it,

pause. He saw a young man standing pe

Zimmerman," R

ight, not touching the backrest.

fth on the exam. You're a reserve. Tell me, Mr. Zimmerm

ap in the f

ch. He looked Rey