Claire came in through the back carrying a copier box from the supply closet.

Her headset went in first, coiled up, the foam on the left earpiece worn thin.

Next came the framed certificate from the county board.

Then the little brass clock, which she tucked into a corner of the box where it wouldn’t get bumped, and which kept on ticking against the cardboard.

Wayne stepped out of his office and stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets.

“Ruth Cole’s expecting you tonight,” he said.