The meeting ran for forty minutes before anyone noticed the chair was empty. Not absent — empty. Someone had been speaking the whole time. They'd been responding to it.
When Davidson finally looked up and said "Who's chairing this?" the silence went around the table like a current.
"I thought you were."
"I thought she was."
"She left at eight."
They checked their notes. Forty minutes of careful minutes, attributed to no one. The motions had been seconded. The agenda had advanced. Two amendments, properly formatted.
Priya said they should adjourn. Kemp said they should finish, since they'd come this far. They voted on it, 4-3, and kept going.
Afterward, Davidson asked the secretary for the official record. She showed him the minutes. Everything was in order. Motions, seconds, tallies. The only thing missing was a name in the chair column.
"What do I put?" she asked.
He looked at the blank space for a long time. "Leave it," he said. "It carried anyway."