At eleven fifteen the drill in the lobby got loud enough that I went down to see about it.

Two men had a ladder against the marble, and one of them was working the screws out of the brass plaque.

Aaron Prescott, Founder and Chief Executive.

The letters were dull at the edges.

“Throw it out?” the building supervisor asked me.

“Records room.

Label it and log the date.

The auditors may want the plaque itself.”