Final Diagnosis Part 2

Benjamin's final assessment report spanned six tightly written pages. The very first diagnostic paper he had turned in weeks ago had barely covered half a sheet.

Instructor Mercer read through the notes, picked up a red pencil, and wrote a single word across the title page:

PASS.

Benjamin picked up the paper, staring at the red letters. He had expected a rush of triumphant joy. Instead, he just felt bone-deep relief. And maybe a little private embarrassment over how terrified he'd been on day one.

Samuel slid his paper over with a broad grin. "Pass."

Patrick held his up. "Pass."

George and Andrew joined in, waving their stamped sheets. Across the hall, similar celebrations broke out.

Not everyone had aced it on the first try. Three men had to retake sections of the chassis test. Two were held back for more electrical coaching, and one older craftsman was still wrestling with precision micrometers.

But nobody was getting fired.