Chapter 24: Five O'Clock

The county licensing office had the same gray carpet and the same plastic chairs.

The same clock hung over the counter, and it said ten past three.

I stood in the doorway in a cream dress, with Benedict's hand at the small of my back.

The room was nearly empty.

It was Friday, and people did not come in at three.

Behind me, wheels creaked on the tile.

The friend in the green jacket pushed Eleanor in through the door, in a wheelchair with a blanket over her knees and a wide navy hat.

She held her cane across her lap.

"I would like it noted," she said to the room, "that I did not agree to this chair."

"Noted, ma'am," the friend said, and she swatted at him with the cane.

The clerk looked up from behind the counter.

She was the same woman, in the same cardigan, with her glasses on a chain.

She looked at me for a long moment.

Then she smiled, and it was the first time I had seen her do it.

"Mrs. Chatsworth," she said. "You're early."

"Mr. Chatsworth is the early one."

"I've been told."

The few people in the waiting room had turned to look.

A man with a clipboard sat up straight.

A young couple, holding hands, whispered to each other.

"That's her," the girl said. "The one from the video."

"Which video?" her boyfriend said.

"The good one."

I felt Benedict's hand tighten on my back.

I looked at the counter.

It was a plain laminate desk with a brass bell.

Two weeks ago I had stood at it with my fiancé's passport in pieces on the laminate and five minutes on the clock.

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