Room 417

The request appeared beside the reception bell at two in the morning: Please bring the red umbrella to room 417.

The hotel had three floors. Leah checked the register, then the security camera. A woman in a green coat had approached the desk while Leah was helping a guest. She had left the note and walked outside.

There was a red umbrella in lost property. Attached to its handle was an old luggage label with the same room number, printed beneath a different hotel name.

Leah rang the retired owner. He answered on the seventh attempt. "You still have it?" he asked. The surprise in his voice was followed by something like shame. "I should have sent it years ago."