The designation registry occupied the third and fourth floors of a government building that had been designed, Damian thought, by someone who believed bureaucracy should feel like a waiting room for something worse.
Grey walls. Fluorescent lighting. Chairs bolted to the floor in rows as if someone might steal them. A numbering system displayed on a screen above the service windows that moved with the particular slowness of a process that had never been asked to hurry.
He took a number.
Sat down.
Waited.
Sandra had offered to come with him. He'd told her no. This wasn't a legal visit — not officially. He wasn't here to file anything or challenge anything or have anything witnessed. He was here because he'd woken up at five that morning with a thought he couldn't shake.
The 14C filing.
Elliot Voss registering historical interest.
