Chapter 34

“In November 2002, there was somebody.”

Twenty-two bookings in a room that does not exist, and the twenty-third is in her name.

You know that a room has vanished from the floor plans, that an insurance file is empty, and that an old broker will not speak about it on the telephone. Still to come: what the 2003 register says when you read it to the end, what lies behind the steel door at the end of the second-floor corridor, and what a father typed into a booking system at twelve minutes past four in the morning, fifteen days before he died.

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