The first Failure Fest was excruciating. Ethan sat in the corner, arms crossed, looking like he’d swallowed a lemon. Liam, to his credit, went first. “I hired us into a comfort zone,” he said. “And I stopped asking hard questions. Next time, I’ll ask the first hard question before the first meeting, not after the last client leaves.”

Ethan didn’t flinch. “Define ‘it.’”

It was ugly. It was uncomfortable. And by the end of the second day, the bank’s youngest product manager—a woman who had been silent for six months—raised her hand and said, “Our app’s login screen asks for a ‘memorable name’ instead of a password. That’s not security. That’s a diary entry waiting to be stolen. Why has no one ever said that?”

“Excellent question,” Mira said. “To the people who already know you. And the people who should.”

Liam looked at Ethan. Ethan looked at Jess. Jess shrugged. “I mean,” she said, “we already have the blog. Might as well charge for it.”