YES, THE “REGISTERS.” There are no phone directories in the lost city, because telephones have not yet made it here. (Telegrams are occasionally sent from the lost city to the city above, but the technology for reception on the other end is lacking.) As Leora walked—or, rather, swam, or, more precisely, drifted—to the lost city hall, she realized that she might once more be setting herself up for disappointment. After all, she had gone to the library with high hopes and had uncovered almost nothing. It seemed absurd to expect anything more from city hall. But in the lost city, one quickly finds that it is impossible to dismiss absurd thoughts—or any thoughts at all, for that matter. There is nowhere left to dismiss them to.

The clerk at the lost city hall seemed vaguely familiar. He was a stringy sort of man, young, with a mop of brown hair and a series of pimples on one side of his mouth. When he spoke, his voice sounded clear and whole, like a knock on a tree trunk. “Are you looking for someone in particular?” he asked Leora as he brought out a pile of giant ledger books, patting the one on top with his hand after he had set them down. “You realize, we’ve got hundreds of these back here. They only cover eras of written language, though. If you’re looking for someone before then, just ask me and I’ll see what I can do.”

“No, this is fine,” she answered quickly, taking the top four books in the stack. For a moment she wished she had real research to pursue. But she was only a visitor. A tourist.

Leora sat down and slowly opened the first alphabetical volume. The pages were gigantic, folio-sized, like an old religious book. Of course, the entries were all written by hand. She looked up her own name first, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw that she wasn’t listed. Then she began flipping pages to hunt down Naomi. But on the way to Naomi, on a whim, she looked up Jason. To her surprise, he was there. And to her absolute shock, so was she—listed right beside him: “Dr. and Mrs.” He also had a business cross-listing: “See under Physicians, Geriatric Medicine.”

She slammed the book shut.

“Find what you’re looking for?” the clerk called from behind the desk. He was crouching, distracted, beside a large pile of inventory sheets.