The new copy felt slick under my fingers compared to the old one. The consultant’s name sat there in clean black ink while mine was just blue pen in the corner.

“We can add a thank you note in the back if you want,” he said after a minute.

I shook my head. “That was never the point.”

He looked at the clock on the wall. “We should move on with the agenda.”

I closed both binders and walked back to my seat. The chair legs scraped loud against the floor.

The rest of the meeting went on with road budgets and new signs. I held the old binder in my lap the whole time.

When it was over I left before anyone else stood up. The hallway smelled like floor wax and old coffee.

In the car I set the new copy on the passenger seat and kept the old one with me. The drive home was the same as always.

My husband was watching the news when I walked in. He asked if I wanted to talk about it.

I told him I had asked the question. Then I put the binder back on the kitchen counter where the light still hit it the same way it did in 2004.