Her fingers closed around the cloth cover of her old yellowed sketchbook, its linen binding worn thin at the corners from eleven years of constant handling.

Inside the front cover rested the small green certified mail receipt, its dark ink signature faded to a gray stamp across the paper label.

Caroline picked up the sketchbook, placed the green receipt flat between its yellowed pages, and walked across the room to the heavy steel archive cabinet built into the brick wall.

She laid the sketchbook on the top archive shelf alongside her finished architectural blueprints and closed the heavy steel door.

She turned the small brass key in the lock, listening as the deadbolt inside clicked into place with a clear, final sound.