The packet went out on a Tuesday morning.
Not all of it.
Just Rell's portion.
Six printed sheets, folded into thirds, slipped into the free newspaper rack at the transit hub on Vein Seven, tucked between the classifieds and the weather reports that nobody read anymore.
He'd done it on his way to pick up his mother's medication.
Clean route.
Clean band.
No detours.
He'd seen the hub's patrol schedule on Aiden's screen the night before, memorized the gap, and thought: *now is exactly when there's nobody watching.*
He'd been right.
He was also wrong.
* * *
Aiden found out an hour later, when Suri's monitoring rig flagged a band cluster near Vein Seven that didn't match any of their planned distribution points.
He stared at the coordinates for eleven seconds.
Then he understood.
"Rell," he said.
Not loud.
The word came out flat and certain, the way diagnoses did.
Rin looked up from her table.
Nia stopped mid-sentence.
Kael, sorting drives in the corner, went still.
