The return desk is near the east entrance. A staff member Loel doesn’t recognize is on duty. She places the book on the counter.
“Just the one?” the staff member says.
“The last one,” Loel says.
The staff member scans the spine. Loel watches her. She’s young, maybe twenty-five. She probably hasn’t visited her own shelf yet. Most people haven’t.
The system makes a sound Loel hasn’t heard before. The staff member looks at the screen. “It’s showing your account as…” She pauses. “Cleared. Is that right?”
“I’ve read all of them,” Loel says.
The staff member looks at her. “All of them? How many did you have?”
“Nineteen.”
The staff member nods slowly, as if this answers something. She marks the return and slides the book into the returns cart. “Is there anything, do you need anything else?”
Loel considers this. She came to return the book, and the book is returned.
“No,” she says.
She turns and walks toward the door. The east wing windows let in the morning light at this hour. She doesn’t look back at the shelf.