“Just running home to grab a duffel bag,” Kevin said, pulling his yellow parking validation card out of his back pocket.

Arthur took the yellow cardstock, slid it into a square stamping machine, and handed it back after a sharp mechanical thud.

“Make sure you keep that printed visitor authorization badge visible on your lanyard if you’re coming back in before six in the morning,” Arthur said, pointing a thick index finger at Kevin’s chest.

“Is the front desk always staffed like this?” Kevin asked, looking through the glass at the dark parking lot outside.

“I lock the outer automatic doors at ten-fifteen sharp,” Arthur said, reaching down to unhook a heavy ring of brass keys from his leather belt.