His business card, a crisp twenty, and a cigarette burn from the previous tenant lined up on the laminate countertop. She looked at the bill. "Hello, Andrew Jackson," she said. She flipped the card over: Call me. If he'd added a question mark, she might have. Or even an exclamation point. It was the period that got her. She held the bill for a little while before ripping it in half. The baby started crying. She tried to recall where she'd put the Scotch tape.