Claire walked close beside me, her light footsteps echoing off the stone walls while Arlene scanned the call numbers stamped on the lower racks.

Arlene drew a thick black leather ledger from the middle rack and laid it flat on a metal cart.

“This is the official birth and death register for the fourth quarter of nineteen ninety,” Arlene said, turning the heavy parchment pages with practiced fingers.

She stopped at page sixty-two and ran her index finger down the column of handwritten entry numbers.

Her finger stopped halfway down the page.