***
The steel mill was already filled with the sounds of cranes, trucks, and the shouts of supervisors giving orders. Mike joined the line of men waiting to clock in. A solid row of hardhats and baseball caps were ahead of him.
Paul White, an elderly man almost his father’s age, squinted down at a computer screen. His large hands fumbled with the icons on the touch screen.
Don, a twenty-something man in a greasy jumpsuit, shifted from side to side. His eyes drilled into the back of the old man’s head.