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envy you the choice you will have to make. The pact we formed so long ago haunts me as never before. And I feel that what I’m about to do … that this is the easy way.
    -Vincent Wayne DiMarco
     
    Donald read the last paragraph again. It was a suicide note. Thurman knew. All along, while Donald wrestled with Victor’s fate on his last shift, Thurman knew. He had this note in his possession and didn’t share it. And Donald had almost grown convinced that Victor had been murdered. Unless the note was a fake— But no, Donald shook that thought away. Paranoia like that could spiral out of control and know no end. He had to cling to something.
    He backed out of the message with a heavy heart and scrolled up the list, looking for some other clue. Near the top of the screen was a message with the subject line: Urgent - The Pact . That word had appeared more than once in Victor’s note. Donald clicked the message open. The body was short. It read, simply:
     
    Wake me when you get this.
    — Anna
    (Locket 20391102)
     
    Donald blinked rapidly at the sight of her name. He glanced across the hall at the silo Head and listened for footsteps heading his way. His arms were covered in gooseflesh. He rubbed them, wiped at the bottoms of his eyes, and read the note a second time.
    It was signed Anna. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn’t to him. It was a note between daughter and father. There was no send date listed, which was curious, but it was sorted near the very top. Perhaps it was from before their last shift together? Maybe the two of them had been awake recently. Donald studied the number at the bottom. 20391102 . It looked like a date. An old date. Inscribed on a locket, perhaps. Something meaningful between the two of them. And what of the mention of this Pact? That was the name the silos used for their constitutions. What was urgent about that?
    Footsteps in the hallway broke his concentration. Eren rounded the corner and covered the office in a few steps. He circled the desk and placed two folders by the keyboard, then glanced at the screen as Donald fumbled with the mouse to minimize the message. “H-how’d it go?” Donald asked. “You got through to everyone?”
    “Yeah.” Eren sniffed and scratched his beard. “The Head of sixteen took it badly. He’s been in that position a long time. Too long, I think. He suggested closing down his cafeteria or shutting off the wallscreen, just in case.”
    “But he’s not going to.”
    “No, I told him as a last resort. No need to cause a panic. We just wanted them to have a heads-up.”
    “Good, good.” Donald liked someone else thinking. It took the pressure off of him. “You need your desk back?” He made a show of logging off.
    “No, actually, you’re on if you don’t mind.” Eren checked the clock in the corner of the computer screen. “I can take the afternoon shift. How’re you feeling, by the way? Any shakes?”
    Donald shook his head. “No. I’m good. It gets easier every time.”
    Eren laughed. “Yeah. I’ve seen how many shifts you’ve taken. And a double a while back. Don’t envy you at all, friend. But you seem to be holding up well.”
    Donald coughed. “Yeah,” he said. He picked up the topmost of the two folders and read the tab. “This is what we have on Seventeen?”
    “Yep. The thick one is your cleaner.” He tapped the other folder. “You might want to check in with the Head of eighteen today. He’s pretty shaken up, is shouldering all the blame. Name’s Bernard. There are already grumblings from his lower levels about the cleaning not going through, so he’s looking at a very probable uprising. I’m sure he’d like to hear from you.”
    “Yeah, sure.”
    “Oh, and he doesn’t have an official second right now. His last shadow didn’t work out, and he’s been putting off a replacement. I hope you don’t mind, but I told him to get on that. Just in case.”
    “No, no. That’s fine.” Donald waved his hand.