RETURN TRAIN — NIGHT
No one slept.
Again.
Bellwake had worked.
That should have felt like a victory.
Instead, all I could see was the list in my lap.
Twelve names.
The only twelve people who had seen the restricted draft containing the exact archive phrasing now showing up in Bellwake's corrupted margin text.
Twelve people.
One leak.
Maybe more.
Kassandra sat opposite me with her boots on the bench because she treated rail etiquette the way most people treated mosquitoes.
Mira had three columns of notes already built: *access*, *motive*, *disposition under stress.*
Sera sat by the window, forehead against the glass, silver eyes reflecting darkness.
She looked calm.
That was deceptive.
I knew by now that Sera's most dangerous moods looked like stillness.
"Read them out," she said quietly.
I looked down at the list.
"Director Chen."
Mira made the first mark.
"Lily."
No mark.
Then one.
Then crossed out.
Then a second mark in a different column.
