“Just one question,” I said.

“What does Delaney owe you?”

The folder snapped shut.

The check went back into his jacket.

He stood, turned his back, and headed for the elevators, and the last thing I saw was the edge of a smile.

The pharmacy counter at Vanderbilt still had the bracket on the wall where the ticket dispenser used to hang.

I put Elsie’s insurance card down and asked for the albuterol inhaler.

The pharmacist typed.