Maya brought a sandwich to her second night shift. At ten fifty she bit into it and found she'd forgotten to put anything between the bread.
Luis held out his pickle jar without comment.
“I was going to pretend this was what I wanted,” she said.
“You can still pretend.”
She took a pickle. The sharp taste brought tears to her eyes, absurdly, and she looked away until they were gone.
Elias hadn't called her cell phone since the shop. Rae had sent a picture of the last school fixture finally working, followed by a message that she was covering the firm's emergency number from her van. She wasn't going to tell Maya which street she would be on at every minute of the night. Maya had not asked. She had almost asked.
Imani had checked the first recording with the morning manager. The words were there, the entry time was there, and Nora's emergency was there eleven minutes later. They could preserve all three. They couldn't make an explanation out of them.
At eleven sixteen Maya opened the information entry again.
She was aware of doing it. She couldn't stop.
The desk line rang at 11:17.
“Daniel Soto,” Elias said. “Forty-two Mercer Court. A fire in the hall. Eleven twenty-eight. He'll burn his hand helping the woman upstairs.”
Maya raised her hand. Imani was watching already.
“Are you at Mercer?”
“No.”
“Have you told the people there?”
“You have to send somebody.”
She wrote his words as he spoke. Different address, different name. His voice was the same, except that now he sounded as if this conversation had exhausted him before it started.
Imani read over her shoulder. “Same caller. Prior warning confirmed?”
“Yes.”
The supervisor nodded to Luis. This time an available fire unit would be sent toward the building with the check. Nobody had reported smoke. Maya repeated that into her record.
“Are they going?” Elias asked.
“They're being notified.”
“Don't let them tell Daniel I called.”
“You don't choose what they tell him.”
“If he calls the shop, Rae will take it.”
Maya sat straighter. “Why does that matter?”
“Keep her away from the building.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“I don't want her in the middle of it.”
It was an answer, Maya thought. It was the only one he had given without being pushed.
“She's taking your work calls. She is in the middle of it. What is wrong with the heater?”
“I don't know if it's the heater.”
“Nora's was.”
“Please, Maya.”
She heard something set down on his end, a hard object against wood. She wished she could see the surface beside him. “Put Rae on with you.”
“She isn't here.”
“Then call her.”
“I will.”
The line went dead before she could ask when.
Maya called Rae's cell phone. Voicemail. She left a message with the address, the exact time, the fact that help was being sent. “Dad has made another prediction. He still hasn't told us how. Call me when you can stop.”
Her own words sounded like the beginning of a hoax. She had said them to the one person she most wanted to keep from being fooled.
At eleven twenty-two the fire unit reached Mercer Court. From outside, the building was quiet. A man at the front door objected to being disturbed and wanted to know who had complained. Maya listened to the radio account. The crew was speaking to a property contact. No reported emergency gave her the power to order strangers out of every warm room.
A message came from Rae: Heard it. Parked. Who's Daniel?
Maya didn't know beyond what Elias had said. She typed, Resident. Stay away until crews finish. I'll call on break.
A moment later Rae answered, OK. Finishing here.
At eleven twenty-five, Daniel Soto stepped into the building's front hall carrying trash. He asked a responder what was going on. He was told of a fire concern and asked to stay clear while they checked. According to the radio, he said Mrs. Malik upstairs sometimes forgot a pan. He would see if she needed something.
The responder told him not to go toward a possible hazard. Daniel went back for his keys.
Maya put down the remaining bread. She could say the man's name to a screen. She could hear somebody warning him. Neither gave her access to the small argument happening in his head: a stranger said wait; his neighbor might need him.
At eleven twenty-seven, a radio update said the crew had heard Mrs. Malik shouting upstairs. Daniel was helping her toward the stairs. A responder was going up to meet them.
At 11:28, Luis took an emergency call from Mercer Court.
Maya knew the address before he said it. A woman was reporting smoke on the upper landing. The fire unit was already moving through the building.
Daniel had gone upstairs when Mrs. Malik shouted. Her walker was caught near the door. He helped her past it, put his hand on a rail, and pulled away too late. The account of the rail and the walker reached Maya later. As Luis took the smoke call, a radio voice said two people had reached the front door, one with a hand injury.
Luis looked at her when he finished the woman's call. Neither of them tried to pretend the time was a coincidence.
Maya's phone lit with Rae's name. Imani pointed her toward the briefing room.
“Dad knew again,” Rae said before Maya could speak. “Somebody at Mercer called the firm at eleven twenty-eight. She'd seen Daniel get Mrs. Malik down and told me about his hand. I called Dad as soon as she hung up. He asked if Daniel was out before I'd said a word.”
Maya sat in one of the room's plastic chairs. It creaked beneath her.
“He named him at eleven seventeen,” she said. “He said he'd hurt his hand helping someone.”
Rae was quiet.
“Are you on your way there?” Maya asked.
“I've called the manager. He needs somewhere for Mrs. Malik to stay. Dad says he's inspecting this one too.”
“Do you know Daniel?”
“I remember him from the install. He moved his table so we could get through. He bought Jory a soda.” Rae breathed out. “He isn't a name we can say because the prediction came true.”
“I know.”
“Sorry. I know you know.”
Maya looked through the door's narrow pane. Luis was putting a pencil behind his ear, missing, then trying again.
“What did Dad say after you called him?”
“He told me not to go. Then he asked exactly what I'd told him.”
“Why?”
“I don't know. He kept saying, From the beginning.”
Maya listened to the room's ventilation. It sounded too much like the empty noise on Elias's line.
Rae said, “I'm going to ask for both parts tomorrow. I don't care whether he's finished.”
“I'll come after I've slept.”
“Come for the answer, then. Don't come to explain why he's afraid for me.”
“I won't.”
“You might.”
Maya smiled without feeling it. “I might. Remind me.”
Back at the desk, the second warning stood beneath the first. Two addresses. Two named people. Two exact minutes.
Between the entries, Maya's own handwritten note read: Ask source.
She crossed nothing out.