“For me?” When Dr. Lawrence wanted her, he contacted her at Y-12, and she’d spoken briefly to her mother just the other day.

“It came in via messenger a little while ago.”

Nora took the envelope from her and read the address on the front. Dr. Nora Lindstrom, W-1. In the upper left-hand corner was the return address of The Castle on the Hill. She tore the envelope open.

Dr. Lindstrom, please see the housing clerk at your earliest convenience. You are being reassigned to a Flat Top as of today.

“Thank God!”

“Nora! Such language!” The housemother glared at her disapprovingly.

“I’m sorry.” But she wasn’t, really. No longer would she be subjected to the housemother’s dour expression or the need to share a bathroom with the other girls.

She redirected her steps back out the door and fairly ran to the administration building, where she presented herself to the housing clerk on duty. “I’m Nora Lindstrom. I got word that my housing upgrade has gone through.”

For the most fleeting of moments, as the clerk sorted through mountains of paperwork, Nora feared that her spot already had been filled.

“Lindstrom… Here you are.” The clerk pulled a manila folder from the stack and removed a sheet of paper. She read it and reread it. “Huh. That’s odd. You’re single, right?”

“Yes.”

“Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Nora tried not to let her nerves get the best of her. Housing was at such a premium that her dorm room likely already had been reassigned. If this upgrade didn’t come through, she could be forced to double up with another girl in a dorm room. The thought nauseated her.

“Okay. Sorry about that.” The clerk sat down behind her desk.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. But you’ve been assigned a brand-new two-bedroom Flat Top. That’s normally reserved for married couples with families. I thought maybe somebody made a clerical error.”

Nora swallowed hard. “Did they?”

“My supervisor says this is what they’ve got for you. But at some point, you may have to take in a roommate.”

“Okay.” Someday was not today; she’d deal with that when the time came. For now, Nora was going to get her house, and all to herself too. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Where is it?”

“105 Georgia Avenue. Lucky you. That’s barely a hop, skip, and a jump from here.”

The clerk’s accent was so thick, it took a moment for Nora to process what she said. “What?”

“105 Georgia is a straight shot up the hill over there.” The clerk pointed, even though they were in the interior of the building. “About a six-minute walk, or two flaps of a wing as the crow flies.”

“When can I get in?”