She could feel beads of sweat break out under her heavy winter clothes as she rushed down the busy sidewalk. Icy sleet mixed with snow slapped against her face.

Her boss had told her he needed her report by 9:00 am to make an informed decision. If he chose wrong, a life, the direction that life would take, could be forever altered.

She tried to glance at her watch, almost dropping the stack of binders balanced in her arms. She wove in and out of pedestrians, human barricades slowing her push forward. I'll never get there in time, she thought.

She had worked on the report late into the night going over every detail; what was said, witness accounts, and motives. Her interpretation of the data, written into several paragraphs on a single sheet of paper, would be a large part of her boss's decision – if she could get it to him on time.

A wave of nausea rushed over her. She hadn't eaten since yesterday afternoon, before the incident in question. This sort of thing can be messy. The impact on the young man in question, depending on her report and her boss's final decision could be devastating. The weight of responsibility as much as her busy schedule had fatigued her and sometime during the early hours, while the birth of this eventful day began - she fell asleep. She woke with a start at 7:55 am, an hour and a half later than she had planned; but then, she had planned on waking up in her bed, not sitting slumped over her laptop at the kitchen table.

She prided herself on rarely ever calling in sick or taking a personal day. Now, here she was pushing herself down a busy sidewalk like a running back towards the end zone – but she wouldn't score. She had fumbled then dropped the ball.

This was especially tragic because her report would exonerate James from any wrong doing. Without her findings her boss might come to the wrong conclusion, condemning James to God knows what. Sweat began to run down her forehead as she worked to quicken her pace. It was past 9:00 and she still had three more city blocks to go.

Pushing her way through the heavy glass doors, she rushed around the corner just in time to see her boss's door swing open.

James stood in the doorway looking at her with wide eyes.

"Miss Gray," her boss greeted.

"Mr. Bower, I have my report right here."

"No need. We got it all sorted out, didn't we James?"

James nodded and headed down the corridor with the secretary.

"But Mr. Bower, my report shows that James did nothing wrong."

"Yes, I came to the same conclusion. It was windy yesterday and when James scooped up a shovelful of sand, it blew in the other boy's face. Sandboxes can be hazardous. No mischief here." He looked over at the young woman. "Next time, Miss Grey, a timeout would be sufficient."

7^{