The sixteen refurbished tablets sat on the workbench like a platoon of scarred soldiers, ready for duty. Their cracked screens gleamed under the single bulb, each fracture a testament to a second chance. The intoxicating high of their success, but that feeling was quickly tempered by the cold, calculating eye of logistics that Evelyn brought to everything.
"We can't just sell these on the street corner like black market watches," Evelyn stated. Her fingers were already flying across her keyboard, pulling up spreadsheets full of potential fees. She explained that online marketplaces would take a fifteen percent commission immediately. Then there would be additional costs for shipping supplies, postage, and transaction fees. She also warned about the inevitable insurance scams from people who would falsely claim the tablets arrived broken. All of these expenses would completely erase their already small profit.
