It was hard to care. He didn’t have the energy. Maybe because he no longer really slept. He never left his post before midnight, and he returned promptly at six o’clock the following morning. Sleep during those few hours was scanty, for he was intensely aware of any noise in the building and the sound of streetcars outside. Even the pacing of the night guards woke him. In the morning he awoke exhausted but managed to shave, pull on a suit, then head downstairs to his post. He had no appetite and no ambition beyond going through the daily motions of life. Nothing penetrated this oppressive fog of lethargy.

Clicking and rattling poured from the telegraph machines, but a new telephone call arrived, and he rolled his chair a few feet to listen in.

A woman’s voice came over the line, and he straightened, recognizing Caroline’s voice.

“Margaret?” Caroline asked the operator. “Don’t patch me through to anyone yet. Just hold the line open.”

Margaret met his eyes. “It’s open, ma’am.”

“Security can hear me?”

“He can,” Margaret said, still looking confused. He was confused too. He rolled his chair closer, scanning the switchboard to figure out where she was calling from, for it was an outside line.

“I need to talk to Sullivan. He should be in his office. Patch me through, please, but hold the line open.”

Now Nathaniel was deeply concerned. Margaret looked to him for permission, and he nodded. This was out of character, which meant something was going on. Margaret patched the call through to his old office. Why did Caroline want him to eavesdrop on this call? It made no sense unless she was leading Sullivan into a trap. His stomach turned at the thought, but he leaned in closer, monitoring Sullivan’s voice as he answered the line.

“I’m sorry about what happened this afternoon,” Caroline said, her voice aching with sadness.

“I am too,” Sullivan replied.

“I wish I’d had a chance to say good-bye to the rest of the staff. I understand you needed to follow Mrs. McKinley’s orders—”

“Caroline, I’m so sorry,” Sullivan said.

They continued talking, and Nathaniel was soon able to put the pieces together. Caroline had been fired! He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to vault out of his chair and find her. She didn’t deserve this, and it cut through the veil of his despondency like a bolt of lightning.

He forced the anger down to focus on what she was saying. Something about the other women in her dormitory. She asked that the work schedule permit Ludmila to keep attending classes and that Mrs. Fitzpatrick get a raise for all the extra work she’d been doing.