Page 48 of Pocket Wife

Enough to prove where the next door might be.

Then the chamber display flashes red.

Jessa’s voice breaks through the emergency channel. “Lucy, you need to get to the clinic.”

I grab the comm. “What happened?”

“Nara’s medical transport authorization was canceled. The clinic received notice five minutes ago. Helix flagged her son as pending relocation jurisdiction.”

Celia lifts a hand to her mouth.

Torren swears.

My bruise pulls as I move too fast toward the door. Rethan catches up beside me after sealing the Westline evidence inside the council archive.

“That is retaliation,” he says.

“It is a child.”

“Yes.”

The word comes out colder than anger.

We reach the clinic in minutes. Nara stands in the front room clutching her son against her chest while the clinic administrator argues with an off-world authorization clerk on the wall display. The boy looks small beneath his thermal wrap, eyes too bright, lips pale.

When Nara sees me, guilt and terror cross her face together. “I tore the offer. This happened because I tore it.”

“No,” I say. “This happened because they wanted you to believe that.”

The clinic display changes before the administrator can speak.

Vance Corvek appears.

Not in person. Not fully official. Just close enough to be deniable.

“Miss Hartwell,” he says. “I understand emotions are high.”

I step in front of Nara and the boy. “Restore the authorization.”

“Medical logistics are complex during relocation disputes.”

“There is no relocation.”

“There will be, if families continue making practical choices.”

Rethan moves into view. “You are interfering with protected medical access.”

Corvek smiles without warmth. “Specialist Veyr, I was under the impression your independent authority had been restricted.”

“Observation is not restricted.”

“Then observe carefully. Resistance has costs. Leadership has costs. Encouraging frightened families to reject lawful offers has costs.”

I feel the whole clinic listening.

My fear wants to turn inward. Toward Nara. Toward the child. Toward every person who might be hurt because I keep asking them to stand.

Rethan’s hand brushes mine once, hidden beside the examination table.