He is paid to be the person who sees what others cannot. Brought in to assess a corporate advisory function - what to keep, what to restructure, what to cut - he works with his customary precision. Structured interviews. Organizational mapping. Clean, defensible methodology.
On day one, he writes the department's name at the top of a notebook page. He does not recognize it as his own.
Over three weeks, the details assemble themselves - not in a single shattering moment, but with the slow, merciless logic of things that were always obvious. The colleagues he interviews occupy unfamiliar boxes on a chart that should be familiar. The function he is preparing to eliminate is, legally and technically, his.
The evidence was there from the beginning. He wrote it down himself.
A surgically precise novel about professional identity, institutional language, and the specific humiliation of discovering you were the one thing you couldn't see at all. For readers of Joshua Ferris, Tom McCarthy, and Rachel Cusk - this is the corporate novel that cuts closest to the bone.
Add to cart. Read it slowly. You'll need to.