Nathaniel walked over and held out the yellow plastic key tag until she reached up and took it.

“The regional labor board sits in Lancaster on Friday morning at nine o’clock sharp.”

Martha looked down at the highlighted lines in her lap, her finger tracing a pencil note in the wide margin.

“I was afraid nobody would believe me if I said it out loud without official paper to show for the hours.”

“The carbon entries match your stubs line for line,” Nathaniel said, rubbing his right wrist where his gold watch sat loose against his skin.

“Will you sit in that room and speak directly to the state officer?”