A roof vent needed replacing.

An elevator inspection had been rescheduled.

A delivery truck left a pallet of printer paper blocking an emergency exit.

I moved the pallet and photographed the clear doorway for the incident report.

For an hour I felt like an ordinary employee again.

Then Rosa asked me into her office.

A city legal officer had received a letter from Graham Voss’s attorneys alleging that I had interfered with a pending procurement decision by spreading unsupported accusations.

The letter demanded that I preserve all communications relating to the dispatch contract.

Rosa assured me the city would handle requests concerning public records through the proper process.

She also reminded me not to delete anything.

I told her I had no intention of deleting evidence, even evidence that made me look foolish.

She smiled sadly and said that was why she trusted me with the archive.

The same afternoon, Paige called from school.

A boy in her science class had told her I was trying to blame an ambulance company for a fire because Lorraine had embarrassed me.

Paige asked whether it was true.

I explained that the fire and the delayed response were separate issues.

The firefighters who fought the blaze were not being accused of starting it.

The ambulance records raised questions about how emergency help was dispatched after the alarm.

She listened carefully.

Then she asked why people kept calling the delay proof that Jonah would have lived.

I told her we did not know that.

She was quiet for several seconds.

I think people want a simple answer because the hard answer makes them feel helpless, she said.

I told her that was one of the most useful things anyone had said to me all week.

After work, I met Erin for coffee at a diner on the opposite side of town.

We had been divorced for four years, and most of our conversations concerned schedules, school bills, and the small arguments that come with raising a child in two homes.

That evening she asked whether I had considered taking paid leave.

I said the library needed me.

She reminded me that people who care for public buildings can still neglect themselves.

I laughed because it sounded like something my father would have said.

Then she reached across the table and touched the bruise on my jaw very lightly.

You didn’t deserve this, Nathan, she said.

I know you want to understand her reasons, but don’t make those reasons your responsibility.