Connor carried the ladder on one shoulder and a bucket with water, cloths, scrapers, and a worn leather strap on the other side. He worked with Sammy Donnelly, who was ten years older, married, with two children, and a face already marked by wind, soap, and fatigue. Sammy was not a man who talked idly. But when he did speak, he spoke like someone who had already judged the world and not liked the result.