The executive director's voice carries a weight that silences the usual pre-meeting small talk. She has called an emergency session of the board, and as members settle into their chairs around the conference table in the community services agency's administrative wing, they notice the thick folder she places before her. Outside, early November rain streaks the windows, and somewhere down the hall, the maintenance team has positioned another bucket beneath one of the ceiling tiles that has begun to sag with moisture. This is the fourth such bucket this month. The executive director opens by telling the board that she met yesterday with the agency's lawyer, and that the lawyer's advice is clear: the agency has grounds to pursue the general contractor who completed the facility renovation three years ago, but the window to do so may be narrowing in ways no one fully anticipated. She explains that the structural deficiencies they have been managing with temporary fixes are not temporary problems. The foundation work that was subcontracted out has failed in ways that are compromising the building's integrity, and the water infiltration they first noticed eighteen months ago has caused damage that extends far beyond what the patched drywall and replaced ceiling tiles suggest. The question she is putting to the board tonight is whether the agency should authorize legal action against the contractor, understanding that this decision will commit the organization to a process that could last years, cost significant resources, and carry outcomes none of them can guarantee. What she does not say, but what the board members around the table need to understand, is that how they make this decision—not just what they decide, but how they deliberate, what they consider, and what they document—will determine their own exposure as directors if the litigation does not go well or if the decision to pursue it is later questioned.