said Wednesday, but my neighbor paid me back early," he explained. Daniel accepted the money because he knew Harold would not stop worrying until he did. Then Harold's eyes moved to the repaired badge clipped to Daniel's shirt with a temporary fastener. "So that's what all the fuss was about," he said softly.
"Apparently," Daniel answered. Harold leaned closer. "I've been working this place for eleven years. I didn't know you were here on day one."
Daniel looked toward the lobby, where the floor shone beneath the bright lights and employees hurried toward the doors. "Most people don't know what happened before they arrived," he replied. "That's all right. What matters is what they do with the place while they're here."
That evening, Lily was waiting just inside the duplex door when Daniel came home. She ran at him so quickly that he barely had time to put down his bag before she wrapped both arms around his waist. The smell of crayons and her strawberry shampoo rose from her hair, and he held her tightly enough that she laughed and told him he was squeezing the air out of her. Mrs. Alvarez had saved dinner, and Lily was eager to tell him how a classmate had mistaken the workshop in her poster for a fire station. Daniel listened as though it were the most important report he would receive all day.
When he hung his work shirt on the back of a chair, Lily noticed the new clip on his badge. "Did it break?" she asked. Daniel nodded. "Something happened at work. Somebody got upset, and it broke."
She looked worried immediately. "Are you in trouble?" He knelt so their eyes were level. "No, sweetheart. There was a mistake, and the grown-ups are working on making sure it doesn't happen again."
Lily touched the plastic card carefully, turning it enough to see the number on the back. "That's your special number," she said. Daniel smiled despite himself. "I've had it a long time." She traced the three digits with one fingertip.