Of average height, auburn hair, dark eyes and fair skin. She’d blend in with any big city crowd. There’s nothing extraordinary about her and nothing ever extra than ordinary ever happened to her. Each morning she’d put mail in the blue mailbox at the entrance and walk to work. Each evening, she’d grab the mail from her mailbox, throw it in her bag, and climb the stairs.

Yesterday evening, when I arrived, I witnessed something quite different. There was something unusual about a single piece of mail that made her pause; and so, for the first time in a long time, Kate took the elevator. Her nail-file flew across the top edge of the envelope just as the elevator doors closed behind her.

This morning as I was about to leave, she blew by me, saying nothing at all. Running out the door, she made no stop at the mailbox but continued quickly down the sidewalk.
She hasn’t returned yet; but the library where she works has been closed for hours. I really can’t say I’m absolutely sure that she even went to work today.