ㅤ
On Monday morning, Mira announced that Sir Flopsy needed a school bag.
ㅤ
“He doesn't go to school,” I said.
ㅤ
“He might.”
ㅤ
I gave her a scrap of cloth and two pieces of string. By the time I'd packed her lunch, she'd tied the cloth around the rabbit's blue cloak and filled it with three buttons and a folded drawing.
ㅤ
“What's the drawing for?”
ㅤ
“If he forgets where home is.”
ㅤ
I checked that the buttons were too large to swallow, then helped her knot the bag securely. Mrs. Fenwick accepted the explanation without asking why a rabbit needed directions to an apartment he'd never left.
ㅤ
I left the wrapped letter in my bag, where I could keep it flat until Miss Vale examined the transport sleeve. At the academy, I found Evelyn waiting near the stairs with our seminar diagrams. She took my hand as we walked toward Halden's office. Two students passed us, looked at our joined hands, and kept going. A third glanced back.
ㅤ
“That's probably going to travel faster than the diagrams,” I said.
ㅤ
“Then we should make the diagrams worth discussing.”
ㅤ
She had marked the moving-target configuration in red. I had spent Sunday evening trying to fix the part she'd crossed out on Thursday. She'd found another problem.
ㅤ
“I see you enjoyed your night,” I said.
ㅤ
“I did. The diagram didn't.”
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
Halden was reviewing the seminar schedule when we arrived. Nessa stood at the window, checking a list of equipment.
ㅤ
“We've confirmed the stationary demonstration,” Halden said. “Two impact sequences, one comparison against the conventional barrier, and a discussion afterward. No moving-target trial in front of visitors.”
ㅤ
“Agreed,” Evelyn said.
ㅤ
“Venn has asked whether you can show the preliminary diagrams.”
ㅤ
“The diagrams, yes,” I said. “Not Thursday's unchecked measurements.”
ㅤ
Nessa looked up. “They're checked now. I compared the dial record with mine this morning. Your first reading was a fraction high.”
ㅤ
I took the corrected sheet. It didn't change the conclusion, but it changed the point at which the barrier had begun to fail.
ㅤ
“Then we should replace the number before anyone sees it.”
ㅤ
“Exactly,” Halden said. “And the failed trial stays labeled as exploratory. You are not presenting a new result.”
ㅤ
He handed us the attendee list. Miss Arden's name was still there.
ㅤ
“Did Venn clarify her affiliation?” Evelyn asked.
ㅤ
“He confirmed she's attending as an independent observer. She has access to the seminar report, not to your working notebooks. If she asks for anything else, send her to me.”
ㅤ
That settled the practical question. It didn't answer who she was, but I had enough to prepare without making a stranger the center of my week.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
Miss Vale had cleared a table in the archive by the time we arrived. A clean cloth covered the wood. Beside it sat a shallow tray, a pair of soft supports, and a transparent sleeve that looked too large for the damaged letter.
ㅤ
“You brought the original?” she asked. I set my bag on the clean cloth and took out the wrapped letter. She checked the outer wrapping before touching it. “Before we agree to Thursday’s appointment, I want you both to understand how we’ll transport it.”
ㅤ
She showed us how the sleeve supported the torn edge without pressing it flat. The letter would remain between two protective sheets inside a rigid folder. Miss Vale would carry it herself. The specialist could use angled light and compare it with samples, but no scraping, heat, reagents, or magic.
ㅤ
“And if the specialist wants to remove a fiber?” Evelyn asked.
ㅤ
“Then the answer is no.”
ㅤ
“What if that is the only way to identify the paper?”
ㅤ
“Then we leave without identifying it.”
ㅤ
I appreciated how little ceremony she gave the answer.
ㅤ
With my permission, Miss Vale opened the wrapping on the supported tray. I recognized the damaged corner and the few surviving words without needing to read them again. Mira had arrived with it. Whatever else the paper was, it belonged to the worst night she remembered.
ㅤ
“Do we have to bring Mira?” I asked.
ㅤ
“No. In fact, I'd prefer that you didn't. The specialist is examining a material object, not interviewing a child.”
ㅤ
Evelyn glanced at me. We had reached the same decision before either of us spoke.
ㅤ
“We'll go,” I said. “Under those conditions.”
ㅤ
Miss Vale wrote our agreement into the condition record, noted the visible damage, and sealed the letter inside the protective sheets and rigid folder. She would retain it securely until Thursday rather than have me carry it home and back again. She had the consultation fee covered through Halden’s archive allocation; additional work would require a separate discussion.
ㅤ
“Thursday, after midday,” she said. “I’ll meet you at the archive first. If you change your minds before then, tell me. We can return the letter to you without making the trip.”
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
Outside, Evelyn waited until the door closed before speaking.
ㅤ
“You were quiet in there.”
ㅤ
“I keep thinking that every person who examines the letter will want an explanation of where it came from.”
ㅤ
“Miss Vale hasn't asked Mira to provide one.”
ㅤ
“I know. I trust her more because of that.”
ㅤ
Evelyn tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “We can stop the consultation if it becomes something we didn’t agree to.”
ㅤ
“We can.”
ㅤ
“And you don't have to carry every decision alone.”
ㅤ
“I noticed you signed the record.”
ㅤ
“I have very legible handwriting.”
ㅤ
I laughed. She took my hand again, and we went to our next class.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
The tutoring room was nearly empty when Lina arrived. She had brought her revised barrier exercise and an apology for a mistake I hadn't yet seen.
ㅤ
“I changed the last step,” she said. “Then I couldn't make the first step work.”
ㅤ
“That happens when the last step was holding the first one together.”
ㅤ
“I thought you were going to tell me not to change things.”
ㅤ
“I'm going to ask you why you changed it.”
ㅤ
She showed me the point where she'd shortened the recovery interval. Her reasoning wasn't bad. She'd assumed that spending less time resetting the barrier would leave more mana for the next impact. In practice, the channels were still settling when she began again.
ㅤ
We worked through it twice. When Tomas arrived for the final fifteen minutes, I gave them the same low-power sequence and asked them to watch each other's timing. Lina noticed Tomas lifting his shoulder before every impact. Tomas caught her rushing the reset.
ㅤ
Neither observation required me.
ㅤ
“Can we do this again?” Lina asked.
ㅤ
“If you both find it useful. We'll keep your individual sessions as they are for now.”
ㅤ
Tomas nodded. “I understood it better when I had to explain it.”
ㅤ
After they left, I counted the payment from Lina’s session and wrote down what I owed for food and rent. Tomas’s attendance for the shared exercise did not turn this into a second paid session; his own lesson remained on its usual schedule. A successful trial lesson didn't turn two students into a dependable business. Still, I could see a way to make the time I already spent teaching more useful.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
Evelyn found me in the corridor with my notebook open.
ㅤ
“Are you calculating mana?”
ㅤ
“Worse. Groceries.”
ㅤ
She looked at the page but didn't try to read it.
ㅤ
“Is something wrong?”
ㅤ
“Not today. I just have to plan ahead.”
ㅤ
“I could bring food when I visit.”
ㅤ
“You brought tarts on Saturday.”
ㅤ
“I can manage more than tarts.”
ㅤ
“I know.” I closed the notebook. “I don't want every visit to become an expense you cover.”
ㅤ
“Then let me ask before I bring anything. You can say no.”
ㅤ
That was harder to object to.
ㅤ
“Carrots,” I said.
ㅤ
She blinked.
ㅤ
“Mira asked whether you liked them. Now she believes they're essential to hospitality.”
ㅤ
“I'll remember.”
ㅤ
We walked to the practice hall, where Nessa had left us the stationary apparatus for one final rehearsal. Evelyn adjusted the impact sequence while I checked the cutoff line. The first run ended exactly when expected. On the second, I missed my cue because I was still thinking about Thursday's appointment.
ㅤ
“Again,” Evelyn said.
ㅤ
“Was it that obvious?”
ㅤ
“You looked at the clock before the pulse.”
ㅤ
I reset the channels. This time, I watched the apparatus.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
Afterward, we sat on the low wall outside the hall. Students crossed the courtyard carrying books and practice staffs. The air smelled faintly of rain.
ㅤ
“Have you decided when to write to your father?” I asked.
ㅤ
“Tomorrow evening. After the seminar.”
ㅤ
“Do you want me there?”
ㅤ
“Not for the first conversation. I need him to hear it from me, not treat you as the person who persuaded me.”
ㅤ
“That makes sense.”
ㅤ
“He may request a meeting once he knows.”
ㅤ
“I'll come.”
ㅤ
“I haven't told you what he'll say.”
ㅤ
“You've told me enough to know it won't be easy.”
ㅤ
Evelyn studied the courtyard. “I don't want to make him sound like a stranger. He taught me to hold a flame steady when I was small. He also believes that planning my future is part of loving me. I need him to understand there's a difference between helping me choose and choosing for me.”
ㅤ
I thought of Mira insisting that Sir Flopsy needed a bag because he might someday go to school. Love made people prepare for futures they couldn't see. It didn't make them right about all of them.
ㅤ
“What if he asks you to come home?” I said.
ㅤ
“I'll ask what for. A conversation, yes. An indefinite stay until I change my mind, no.”
ㅤ
“Would he try that?”
ㅤ
“I don't know.” She turned toward me. “I'd rather not decide in advance that he will.”
ㅤ
Neither would I. There would be enough real difficulties without inventing extra ones.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
When I collected Mira, Mrs. Fenwick told me she'd eaten her lunch, washed her hands without being reminded, and spent most of the afternoon teaching Sir Flopsy to recognize shapes.
ㅤ
“He's struggling with triangles,” Mira said on the walk home.
ㅤ
“Many people do.”
ㅤ
“Do you?”
ㅤ
“Sometimes.”
ㅤ
At the apartment, she placed the rabbit on the table and asked whether Evelyn was coming.
ㅤ
“Not tonight. She's preparing for tomorrow's seminar with me.”
ㅤ
“Will there be lots of people?”
ㅤ
“Some.”
ㅤ
“Will they clap?”
ㅤ
“Maybe. It isn't a performance.”
ㅤ
Mira looked unconvinced. She drew a small barrier around Sir Flopsy on the back of an old worksheet, then added herself inside it.
ㅤ
“Can you make one for us?” she asked.
ㅤ
“I can make a barrier. I’m still learning how to make it move safely with someone.”
ㅤ
“Then we can stand still.”
ㅤ
I sat beside her. “Sometimes standing still is the safest choice. Sometimes it isn't. That's why we're testing it.”
ㅤ
She considered this, then drew a door in the barrier.
ㅤ
“So we can get out.”
ㅤ
“Yes,” I said. “That's a good thing to include.”