Her name badge said Cindy. “Good morning,” she said. “How can I help?” “I have an appointment,” Elias said. “Ten o’clock. With a Mr. Gerald Fitch.” Cindy nodded and reached for her keyboard. “Account number?” He reached for his notepad — a small spiral bound one he kept for farm notes, the cover soft with use.
He’d written his account number on the inside cover the way Margaret had always told him to keep important numbers somewhere he wouldn’t lose them. He fumbled with it briefly. It slipped from his fingers and fell to the marble floor with a flat sound, pages splaying open. “Sorry,” he said, bending down to pick it up. Behind him he heard it — a short, barely there sound.