The folder sat in the middle of the kitchen table. It had clean edges and a single clip at the top. Next to it, Selina put a small gray notebook and a pencil. She sat down where Mira could hear her clearly.
"All right. We'll keep a simple log. Time, dose, how your pulse feels, and anything unusual. If this starts to make you feel like an object on a chart, we stop and change how we do it."
"I want the facts," Mira said. "I don't want anyone guessing for me."
"Good." Selina took the elastic off the notebook and opened to the first page. "We can be brief and clear."
Kael stood by the window. He had cracked it a little so air moved through the room. The street sounded normal: a car door, shoes on pavement, someone talking to a child about a coat. He kept his hands folded and watched the front.
Selina set a small glass bottle on the table. "Tonic. I'll pour a small amount. We start light and see how your body reacts."
"I can pour," Mira said, and then stopped herself. "You do it. I'll focus on how it feels."
Selina measured two teaspoons into a cup. The liquid smelled faintly of flowers and something clean. Mira lifted the cup and took one sip, then waited. Warmth spread under her ribs. It was strong but not painful. She felt alert for a moment, then steady again.
"Pulse?" Selina asked.
"Regular," Kael said. He didn't look at a device. He counted quietly under his breath and listened to the monitor.
"Write it," Mira said.
Selina spoke each line as she wrote so Mira could hear it clearly. "Nine twelve. Two teaspoons tonic. Pulse steady. Warmth for about six minutes. Mild brightness."
"It's strong," Mira said, "but I'm okay."
"Then we eat, and at ten we take the call," Selina said. "After that, we do one small non-medical thing so you feel the day belongs to you. What do you want?"
"I want to memorize the stairs. All thirteen. I want to know where the squeaks are."
"Good. We'll do it carefully."
They ate porridge with chopped apple. Tea was hot and familiar. Selina pulled the clinic folder closer, read the headings aloud, and simplified the parts written for lawyers: medication schedule, device telemetry, authorized partners, caretaker authorization, and general terms. She paused whenever a phrase hid more than it said.
"'Continuity of care,'" Selina read. "That can be a real thing or a way to share your data with people without saying who they are. We will ask for names."
"We ask for names for everything," Mira said. "People, not titles."
"Exactly."
Ten minutes before the call, Mira smoothed her cardigan and touched the small notch in her left eyebrow. She told her hands to be steady. Kael asked if the window should stay open. She said yes.
The phone rang at ten. Selina put it on speaker.
"Ms. Halden? Ms. Vale? This is Administration. Troy speaking."
"We're here," Mira said.
"Good morning," Selina added.
"As requested, I have a preliminary access summary. Some items will require additional processing time."
"Start with the clinic record," Mira said. "Please read the names for the last twelve months."
"Dr. Harland. Mr. Hartwell. Registrar Lee. Nurse Supervisor Patel. Data Officer Quinn."
"We requested twenty-four months," Selina said. "Today we'll accept twelve and expect twenty-four within the statutory window."
"Understood. Device telemetry access: Dr. Harland, Registrar Lee, Device Technician Moran, Data Officer Quinn, and a system account used for automated audits."
"What is the system account called?" Selina asked.
"SYS-CTMON."
"Who are the authorized partners?" Mira asked.
"Two are currently listed: Valerion Devices Limited and Aegis Foundation."
Selina's pencil paused. "Does Aegis see data that identifies Ms. Halden by name?"
"They receive aggregate reports. Our policy prohibits patient-identifiable data without explicit consent."
"Caretaker placement," Selina said. "Who logged the recommendation?"
"The recommendation is clinic-originated. The record shows Dr. Harland logged the entry. The approval box is marked 'team.'"
"Please email the summary you just read," Mira said. "We will also submit a written request for the full twenty-four-month access logs. One more item. My file included 'evening delivery preferred.' I didn't set that."
"I can remove the flag. It was set on October twelfth."
"Please include the donor redaction record and every signature associated with that date," Selina said. "We want copies."
"I'll send a secure link today."
"Thank you," Mira said.
The call ended. No one talked for a few seconds. The name Aegis Foundation sat on the table like an object they all recognized but didn't like.
"I'm going to do the stairs now," Mira said. "I want one clear task before more phone calls."
They went to the stairs. Selina stood one step behind. Kael watched from the hall. Mira moved slowly and called out what she heard and felt so the house started to live in words she could use later.
"One." It sighed a little.
"Two." Quieter.
"Three." A small squeak.
"Four, five." The fifth dipped in the center.
"Six." Almost silent.
"Seven." Another small squeak.
They rested on eight. Mira breathed like Selina had taught her. The tightness eased. They finished: nine friendly, ten steady, eleven a little tall, twelve very quiet, thirteen the landing. Mira pressed both hands to the wall.
"Thirteen steps. Two squeaks. One dip. One tall. Eight is above a beam. Six tries not to make noise," she said. She smiled. "I can use this tomorrow without thinking."
Back at the table, Selina read Ms. Troy's email aloud. "Clinic access list and telemetry names match what she said. Authorized partners: Valerion Devices and Aegis Foundation. Donor redaction signatures: Ms. Troy and Dr. Harland. Date: October twelfth. 'Evening delivery preferred' flag set the same date."
"So donors were handled and my deliveries were set to evening on the exact same day," Mira said. "Put that in the log. I want it written down."
Selina wrote: October 12 — donor redaction + evening delivery flag. Same day. Same signatories.
The bell rang. Nora called through the letter slot, "It's me. I brought biscuits. And an argument for the council if anyone needs one."
Selina opened the door. Nora came in, shook rain off her coat, and set down a bag. She started to talk and then fell silent for a second. She had stepped one pace into the room and stopped.
"What is it?" Mira asked. "Are you all right?"
Nora rubbed her eyes with her knuckle and forced a laugh. "I need stronger glasses. You look well today. Good color. The air in here is warm. It suits you." She came to the table and kissed Mira's temple. "I'll pretend I didn't just stop like a fool in your doorway."
"Sit," Selina said. "We were about to have biscuits."
Nora handed over a folded scrap of paper. "They named one of the doctors on the midday bulletin. Alan Alder. Private practice. Central. They said there's no risk to patients. I wrote down the police line if you want to ring. Don't do it alone. Make someone sit with you, and write down what they say."
"Thank you," Mira said. She took the paper and held it, even though she couldn't read it. "We'll decide after we speak to Administration again."
"Good," Nora said. She studied Mira's face for another second, then gave up pretending she hadn't. "You look like you've slept. Keep doing whatever did that." She glanced at Selina and then at the hallway, as if a thought had crossed her mind and she chose not to say it. "Right. I'll be back later. The bins have changed days again, and I am going to cause a fuss."
After the door clicked shut, Mira turned her head toward Selina. "She saw something. She didn't know how to say it."
"She saw you look healthy," Selina said. "That surprises people here. It's fine. Don't carry it. You didn't do anything wrong."
"I know. It still feels strange."
They ate lunch. The soup was simple. The bread was good. After a few mouthfuls, Selina poured a smaller dose of the tonic. "Half of what you had earlier."
Mira took it. Warmth rose quicker. Her left fingertips tingled for a moment. Her nose tickled. A faint smear of blood came when she touched a tissue to it.
"Head forward," Selina said. She put one hand on Mira's shoulder and kept her voice level. "Pinch here. Breathe through your mouth."
Kael counted quietly. "One. Two. Three. Four." It stopped in under ten seconds.
"Write it," Mira said.
Selina wrote: 12:58 — 1 tsp tonic. Warmth faster. Tingling left fingers 10–15 sec. Nosebleed light <10 sec. Resolved.
The buzzer sounded again a few minutes later. Kael answered. When he came back he had a small plain box. "Unmarked van. Driver said pharmacy. No logo. Hoodie, cap, gloves."
Selina opened the box carefully. Two bottles sloshed. The labels said electrolyte solution. "We didn't order this," she said. She called Willow Pharmacy on speaker. The same bright voice answered.
"Not from us," the woman said at once when Selina read the label and times. "We deliver on Fridays. Liam is off this week. Sarah covers. No one after six. We don't use unmarked vans."
"Please note on our account that any after-hours delivery must be pre-agreed," Selina said.
"Noted," the woman said. "Daylight only is also noted."
"Thank you."
Selina resealed the box and set it aside. She wrote on the pad by the door: Wednesday delivery — not Willow. Unmarked van. Time 13:22. Driver hoodie, cap, gloves.
The phone rang with an unknown number. Selina answered and put it on speaker.
"Miss Halden? Registrar Lee," a young man said. "Dr. Harland asked me to confirm two routine device audits last night."
"What times?" Mira asked.
"Two thirty-seven and three ten."
"From where?" Selina asked.
"The first was from the clinic network. The second was… not our network. It's probably automated through the vendor."
"Send the audit log," Mira said. "Copy Ms. Troy."
The email arrived. Selina read it line by line. "SYS-CTMON, clinic, 02:37. SYS-CTMON, external IP, 03:10. Both October twelfth."
"So the same night the donor redaction happened and the evening flag was set," Mira said. "They also accessed my device from outside the clinic."
Selina pressed her palm on the paper to keep her pencil from tearing the page. "We will ask for the external IP owner. We will ask if Valerion Devices or any third party used that account."
Kael spoke from the hall. "Blue car. Rear plate only. Same driver. Cap. Slow pass. Times logged."
"Thank you," Selina said.
Mira stood for a minute with her hand on the counter. She listened to the house and to her chest. She did not feel faint. She did not feel calm either. "I don't want to live on the phone," she said.
"You won't," Selina said. "Today we gather. Tomorrow we go in. We look at their faces and ask the same questions. People answer differently in person."
Mira nodded. "Yes. We go."
They did the short afternoon walk, back and forth along the hall. Mira said when the tightness started and stopped before it grew. They rested. Selina adjusted the pace. It was not dramatic. It was work.
Around three, the phone rang again. "Miss Halden?" The voice was older this time. "Sergeant Payne, Central Division. We received your neighbor's number and a note that you may have late-night activity near your address. We are building a timeline related to Dr. Alan Alder and other cases."
"I don't know if I ever saw him," Mira said. "I have gaps."
"That's fine," the sergeant said. "Any calls, deliveries, or unplanned home visits in the last month would be useful."
Selina spoke clearly. "We have times for a circling car and an unmarked van today. We will not give you guesses. We will give you a written list once we confirm each item."
"That works," he said. "I'll send a case number."
Selina took it down. "We will be in touch tomorrow after a meeting with Administration."
"Thank you," he said. The call ended.
They returned to the table. Selina boxed each item on her list and read it back so all three heard the same plan.
"Access list requested. Audit log received for two events on October twelfth. Partners named: Valerion Devices and Aegis Foundation. Donor redaction signed October twelfth. 'Evening delivery preferred' set October twelfth. Blue car plate logged. Unmarked van today. Sergeant Payne case number registered. Tomorrow we go in person."
"Put 'caretaker authorization amendment' on the list," Mira said. "It needs to say I chose you. I also want Kael listed as approved household."
"It's there," Selina said. "We will sign our copy tonight so no one can alter the terms later."
Kael set a timer on his phone. "I'll walk at four forty-five and again at eight. If the car returns, I'll get a clearer photo of the plate."
"Be careful," Mira said.
"I will."
At four, the clinic sent a mass email: We're pleased to confirm your evening-delivery preference remains active. Selina forwarded it to Ms. Troy with one clear paragraph: This is incorrect. Preference removed at 10:24 today. Please confirm who re-activated it and at what time. Ms. Troy replied in six minutes: The preference is removed on our side. That message should not have been sent. We are investigating the alert source.
"Slip number two today," Kael said. He didn't sound pleased. He sounded tired of mistakes that always favored one side.
"Harland will appear again soon," Selina said. "We won't open the door. He can call."
They ate a simple dinner. After, Selina measured a half teaspoon of tonic. "Smallest dose. If it feels too strong, we stop tomorrow."
Mira took it. Heat rose fast and then leveled. A small ache flicked under her breastbone and faded. A second nosebleed started and stopped in under a minute. Kael counted without rushing. Selina logged it.
Nine twenty brought a short call from an unknown number claiming to be a "device tech" from Valerion. Selina asked for an ID number and a callback through the main clinic line. The caller hung up. Selina wrote Valerion spoof call? on the pad and underlined it.
A few minutes later, a short email from "Clinic Updates" confirmed a "routine firmware test" scheduled for one a.m. Selina replied: Declined. House is set to do-not-disturb. Any device action requires written consent. She copied Ms. Troy and Harland.
At the front, Kael opened the window an inch and checked the street. "No car," he said. "Quiet."
"Good," Mira said. She looked toward the dark glass. "I want to sleep without a phone next to my ear."
"You can," Selina said. "The bell is here if you want me. The call button is here if we need help. The monitor is set to local only. No remote updates tonight."
Mira nodded. "Leave the window cracked. I like the air."
Kael opened it with care. "I'll sit in the front room. If a car stops, I'll hear it."
Mira went to the bathroom with Selina. She washed her face and looked at herself without searching for answers that wouldn't come in a mirror. She saw the notch in the eyebrow and the shape of her mouth. She did not argue with whatever her face did to people. She told it she would deal with the rest tomorrow.
In the bedroom, Selina checked water, lamp, phone, and bell, then stood in the doorway. "If you feel pressure or light-headed, say it out loud. Don't wait. If I don't answer because I'm in the bathroom, press the button. That alerts me and the monitor. If nothing changes in a minute, we call for help."
"No waiting," Mira said.
"No waiting," Selina repeated.
From the front room, Kael said, "Window is open one inch. Street is clear. I'll walk at eight as planned."
"Thank you," Mira said.
They turned off the overhead light. The house made ordinary sounds. Mira lay down and let the day slow.
Far from the flat, in a room with no windows, a group of men and women sat at a long table. They did not wear badges, but anyone would know they were used to power. A man in a red cloak stood at the head of the table. He did not speak at first. He set a sealed envelope on the wood and looked at the man across from him.
The man across from him was older and rich. He had the reflexes of a person who had learned early that most people could be moved if you pressed on the right part of their lives. He opened the envelope and read without moving his face.
"You understand the choice," the man in the cloak said. His voice did not rise. "There will be an alignment in three weeks. The public story will be comfort. The real story is pressure. Those who prepare will hold position when the pressure changes. Those who don't will go down a step and not find a way back up."
"What do you want in return," the older man said, "for this preparation?"
"You will give resources," the man in the cloak said. "You will give information when asked. You will take an oath. And when our master arrives, you will stand where we place you. In return, you and your family will be first to learn what you call cultivation. You will be able to hold more weight than other men. You will live longer. Your enemies will not."
"You say 'family' as if it is one thing," the older man said. "It is not."
"You will define who belongs," the man in the cloak said. "We will remove obstacles if they threaten the work."
The older man looked down at the last page in the envelope. It described a schedule and a place. It warned that there could be a test. It did not use the word test. It said proof. "When?"
"Before the alignment," the man in the cloak said. "We cannot teach the first steps after. The body must be made ready."
"Fine," the older man said. He folded the pages and put them back into the envelope. He did not ask how the man in the cloak knew his concerns about his daughter. He did not ask why the invitation had reached him through a banker and not a minister. He did not say her name. He only said, "You will get what you want. I expect the same."
"You will," the man in the cloak said. He lifted one hand, and someone at the door brought a small case to the table. The older man took the case. He did not open it there. He did not need to. He had already said yes.
Back in the flat, Mira woke once and rolled onto her side. The room felt normal. She reached for the phone and recorded her note in a low voice so she would not wake Selina.
"New note. Names read: Harland, Hartwell, Lee, Patel, Quinn. Telemetry names include Moran and a system account called SYS-CTMON. Partners: Valerion Devices and Aegis Foundation. Donor redaction and 'evening delivery' both dated October twelfth. Two audit events the same night: clinic at 2:37, external at 3:10. Unmarked van delivered electrolyte solution today. Pharmacy said not them. Registrar Lee confirmed the audits. Sergeant Payne gave a case number. Nora saw something when she came in. She said I looked well. There were two short nosebleeds with the tonic. We kept them short. Caretakers are concerned about a date three weeks away. We go in person tomorrow. We will ask for full names and printed lists."
She saved it and put the phone down. She closed her eyes and saw a pond and a white flower. The drop of water fell into the surface and did not break. She did not say the name that sat on her tongue. She kept it.
In the front room, Kael watched the street, wrote down two times, and kept his breathing slow. No blue car returned. A fox crossed the road and vanished. He set an alarm for the morning and leaned back in the chair without closing his eyes.
Selina slept in the next room with the door open. When she woke at five, she sent one short message to book a car for ten. She set the notebook and a folder by the door and placed a bottle of water in Mira's tote.
At seven, the kettle clicked on. Mira sat up slowly and tested her balance. The weight in her chest was the same as yesterday. She felt warm, but not like a fever. Selina stood in the doorway.
"Morning. Tea first. Then breakfast. Then we print our list and go."
"Did the car come back?" Mira asked.
"No," Selina said. "The street stayed quiet."
Kael stepped to the door. "I'll walk to the corner and back. Then I'll be inside when you dress."
"Thank you," Mira said.
They ate simple food. Selina checked the pill box and confirmed the plan for the day. The car would arrive at ten. They would ask for printed lists: full access log for twenty-four months, the names behind SYS-CTMON, all partner agreements by name, the caretaker decision trail, the date and person who set the delivery preference, and any "after-hours device" records tied to their address. They would sign the amendment that said Mira chose Selina and approved Kael as household. They would refuse any last-minute "firmware test." If anyone tried to delay, they would book a second appointment and ask for the complaints policy in writing and the legal contact for data access.
"Do you still want to call the police after?" Selina asked.
"Yes," Mira said. "We'll give them the plate and the times once we print them. We will not give them guesses. Only facts."
"Good," Selina said. "You decide what happens in your house and in your file. We help you carry that decision."
Mira took the small card Selina had printed in large font with their questions in the order they would ask them. She ran her finger along the raised dots Selina had added with a marker so she could tell where each line began. It felt practical and solid.
The cab arrived on time. Kael opened the front door and took one long look at the street before he stepped back. "Let's go."
Mira stood, found the handle of the tote, and held it. Her hands were steady. She was not calm, but she was ready. They went out together. The monitor blinked once behind them and stayed green.
As they closed the gate, a blue car turned at the far end of the road, slowed for a second, and then drove on. Kael watched it go, took a quick photo, and wrote down the time. He did not call attention to it. He put the phone away and got into the cab last.
On the seat, Selina folded the gray notebook open and held a pen ready.
"Before we start," Mira said, "one thing. No one speaks for me in that room unless I ask. If I get tired, we stop. If they try to move past a question, we return to it."
"Agreed," Selina said.
"Agreed," Kael said.
Mira breathed in, then out. "Let's go get the names."