07:11 — asks for household schedule. Deflected.
07:26 — walks east corridor. Counts doors.
07:33 — pauses at staircase. Doesn’t descend.
07:39 — returns.
I read it once. Then again.
“Is she grieving?” I ask.
Luca stands opposite me. He doesn’t look at the report. He doesn’t need to.
“I don’t see signs,” he says. “She’s more focused on testing the guards.”
“How?”
“Approaches the boundary. Stops before they can speak to her. Returns. Repeats with coffee. Slower.”
“Guard response?”
“None first time. Adjusts position second.”
I set the report down. “She wants the adjustment,” I say. “Who’s in the corridor?”
“Paolo.”
“Remove him. He responds too visibly. Replace with Matteo.”
Luca’s confusion is controlled but present. “Matteo is less disciplined.”
“Matteo is less readable,” I correct. “Is there anything else I need to know?”
A pause.
“Yes,” Luca says. “She asks Teresa for the schedule.”
I see.
“She understands hierarchy,” I say. “Guards are barriers. Staff are systems.”
“Yes.”
“What answer does Teresa give her?”
“Nothing direct. Meal timing. Chapel hours. Garden access points.”
“She’s giving her structure without information.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Luca’s eyes meet mine. “Is there anything you want me to adjust?”
I shake my head.
“Understood.” He turns to leave.
