I was there for a conference. She was there to forget someone. Neither plan survived the elevator.

The badge said DANIEL HAYES, thirty-four, a company I still answered to. Midtown hotel, thick carpet, citrus cleaner fighting wet coats. I had flown in that morning for three days of panels I was already ignoring. My room was on eleven. I dropped the suitcase and came back down, and I stepped into the elevator at four…