Page 115 of Pocket Wife

Then the earlier Kade-Vaul file and the registry witness band snap together in every corner of the room.

My eyes go to Rethan.

He is reading the band, not hiding from it.

Sen turns toward the tribunal display. “Let the record show that the registry’s Pi’rell witness band includes Malrec Vaul, the same cultural liaison Specialist Veyr has identified as connected to Director Kade’s improper access and corporate preservation channels.”

Salo says nothing yet.

That is worse than an objection.

Sen continues, gaining force. “Helix now has reason to challenge not merely custody, but foundational integrity. If Vaul witnessed or helped authenticate the registry, and Vaul later participated in improper classification activity, the registry may have been compromised from inception.”

My hands curl.

Rethan answers before I can speak. “That conclusion is unsupported.”

Sen looks at him. “You are emotionally invested in that being true.”

“I am textually invested.”

“Then read the text, Specialist.”

Salo’s gaze moves to Rethan. “Read the Pi’rell witness band.”

Rethan steps closer to his station. Not toward me. Not toward comfort. Toward the record.

His voice remains steady.

“Malrec Vaul. Cultural memory liaison. Witness only. No transfer authority. No custody authority. No amendment authority.”

My chest eases.

Sen does not retreat. “Witness authentication can still taint the instrument.”

“Not if the instrument limits the witness.”

“Does it?”

Rethan looks deeper.

His composure strains then—not breaking, but bearing more weight than anyone in the room can see.

“Yes,” he says.

The registry translates the next line.

A witness may remember. A witness may not own.

Celia whispers, “Bless the dead who wrote that.”

I could have cried.

I do not.

The registry is older than the betrayal.

Wiser than the betrayer.