“It was a—” Diane weighed the difference between accepting blame for an action and claiming that action. On the one hand, she could protect her job, her reputation. On the other hand, she could act based on what she understood to be a reality—that a man named Evan used to work in her office.

She had gotten in some arguments with her co-workers in both HR and finance over this issue. She wanted Catharine to help resolve it, but she also knew her insistence was beginning to reflect poorly on her.

Diane’s head pulsed with what wasn’t quite a headache. It sounded like her own voice was different, or like it belonged to someone else.

She also considered that in the place where she thought Evan’s desk was, there was no desk at all. Maybe her co-workers were right. She began to sell herself on the idea that she must have lost her mind, or a part of her mind, for a moment. That perhaps she should see a doctor. Like most people in Night Vale, she wasn’t sure what doctors did, exactly, but it was rumored that there were benefits to their secretive activities.

Diane had many thoughts in a breath-long conversational hesitation. The tarantula didn’t even have time to take a step.

“—a mistake,” Diane continued, the pause almost indistinguishable from a stutter. “I don’t know how I thought that there was a man named, umm . . .”

And for a flicker she did not remember anything about the man, let alone his name.

“Evan,” she recovered, “who worked here.”

“I understand,” said Catharine.

“But I’m curious. Was there ever an employee by that name, or a similar name? Was I close? Was I maybe conflating this person with someone else? I’m just trying to not, feel crazy, you know?”

Diane laughed. Catharine did not laugh.

“Not off the top of my head, no. I will look, and I will let you know. There used to be an Alan, I think, who was a sales associate.”

“Oh, I remember Alan. No, not him.”

“It will be difficult to help if you create a Culture of No, Diane.”

They both laughed at this. It was an excellent dry joke, Catharine thought. I am connecting with people, Catharine thought. What in the hell? Diane thought.

“Seriously, I will look into it, Diane. I am glad Dawn is back and that we have our full staff together again.”

“Yes, I was—Well, I don’t know if you were, but it was stressing me out, not knowing.”

“Not knowing?” The tarantula was stepping off the back of Catharine’s elbow, trying to reach the armrest.

“You held a staff meeting where we discussed Dawn and Ev——Dawn’s absence. That she was missing for a few days and no one could get hold of her. We offered to drive to her house and—”