Every morning, Desmond checked the website for the Norman Transcript, the local paper for Norman, Oklahoma, and the closest thing to a local paper for the Slaughterville area. He skipped the news, focused on the classifieds. As promised, the local lawyer ran a notification opening the estate of Orville Thompson Hughes. A few months later, a story ran under the local news section entitled Library System Receives Surprise Donation.

Yesterday, the Pioneer Library System was pleasantly surprised to receive a donation for $32,000 in the name of Agnes Andrews, a long-time librarian who passed away ten years ago. Even more unexpected was the source of the donation: Orville T. Hughes, a recently deceased oil rig worker. Upon receiving the sum, the library found that Mr. Hughes had no library card, and as best anyone could remember, had never even visited one of the libraries in the system. Even more confounding, relatives of the deceased Ms. Andrews weren’t aware that the woman had ever known Mr. Hughes.

“It’s a mystery,” Edward Yancey, the Library System administrator said. “But we sure aren’t trying to solve it. Lord knows we could use the money, and we’re just thankful to have it.”

Desmond smiled. He had expected the small farm to bring more, but it was done, and the money had made its way to the right place. Agnes and the library system had been there for him during one of the darkest chapters of his life. He hoped the money would help ensure that it was there for the next person who needed it.

One Wednesday morning, Desmond arrived at work to find a group of xTV employees crowded around the front door. Nearly everyone was either on their cell phones or whispering to each other.

Desmond assumed there had been a fire. Or an accident. Or a gas leak.

It was none of those things.

The company had run out of money. The landlord had finally locked them out of their headquarters. The venture capitalists who had funded the venture were in control, and they were selling everything that wasn’t nailed down: the servers, desks, routers. Even the xTV sweatshirts were donated to a local homeless shelter for a tax write-off.

Desmond’s options were worthless. He couldn’t even get inside to his desk to get his personal effects.

Things changed after that. Without a job—a purpose—Desmond felt lost. He watched three more of the companies he held options for fold. Each one was like a punch in the gut.

“It’s not over yet, Des,” Peyton told him.

He and Peyton began spending more time together. He helped her cram for her exams, and she helped him sort through a few job opportunities.