The Wrong Brother, The Right Mistake
The library was at the front of the second floor.
It was warmer than I expected. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a small rolling ladder, a large desk near the window, two leather chairs, a dark green reading lamp, and a low liquor cabinet along the right wall. There were books on business, history, politics, energy, a few classic novels, and stacks of documents arranged in the particular way of someone who only allowed himself to be messy in designated places.