Page 26 of Pocket Wife

He takes longer than usual to answer. “My world was lost because my people believed consequences could be postponed until it became someone else’s problem. Pi’rell history is not gentle with that mistake.”

I’ve heard pieces of that story, the way everyone hears pieces of old tragedies carried between stars. A ruined homeworld. A species scattered into scholarship, law, and long memory. Hearing him say it without ornament makes it feel less like history and more like scar tissue.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

Rethan’s gaze stays on the road. “It was long before your grandparents’ grandparents were born.”

“That does not mean it stopped mattering.”

He turns his head slightly.

For once, I’ve surprised him.

Before either of us can speak again, a shout rises inside the hall.

I push away from the rail and hurry back in. People have gathered around the Helix contact table. Jessa stands there with a copied notice in both hands, her face pale.

“What happened?” I ask.

Jessa gives me the paper.

It’s an individual relocation offer addressed to the Quinn household, dated two days before Helix had publicly announced its claim.

I read the date again.

Two days before.

Rethan stands beside me now, all softness gone from his face.

“They prepared private offers before notifying the valley,” I say.

“Yes,” he replies.

Around us, the hall quiets as the meaning spreads.

Helix had chosen its frightened families before the ships ever entered the sky.

CHAPTER 12

RETHAN

The oldest records are not stored like documents.

They are stored like relics.

I find them in the municipal cold cabinet after midnight, sealed behind two manual locks, a failed biometric plate, and a handwritten warning from a clerk dead for at least ninety years: Do not open unless the valley forgets itself.

Lucy reads the warning over my shoulder.

“Well,” she says quietly, “that sounds cheerful.”

“It is imprecise.”

“It is terrifying.”

“It may be both.”

She shoots me a tired look. “You are learning.”