Page 71 of Pocket Wife

I hate how rested he looks.

Beside him sits Helix counsel, a narrow-faced woman named Advocate Liora Sen, whose smile carries no warmth at all.

“Adjudicators,” Advocate Sen begins, “Helix recognizes the emotional nature of this matter. However, emotion cannot substitute for lawful custody, authenticated documentation, or neutral procedure. What occurred last night beneath the old threshing yard was not discovery. It was a coordinated resident performance staged after notice of review.”

A sound moves through the chamber.

I grip the slate harder.

Sen continues. “The so-called First Hall was opened by interested parties, under community pressure, after private coordination among witnesses already hostile to my client. The lead Authority specialist has admitted personal involvement with Miss Hartwell, the settlement’s chief organizer. Every major piece of evidence is therefore contaminated by bias.”

I feel every eye shift toward me and Rethan.

Rethan’s face does not change.

That almost makes me smile.

Adjudicator Salo looks to him. “Specialist Veyr, your response.”

Rethan steps forward. “Bias does not alter material age, cross-referenced settlement marks, original language consistency, or recorded attempts by Helix personnel to penetrate the archive seal before resident access.”

Sen lifts one brow. “You claim neutrality?”

“No,” Rethan says.

The chamber goes very still.

“I claim documentation. Neutrality is not required for a stone to bear an old mark. It is not required for a sealed archive to contain materials labeled in pre-registry language. It is not required for Helix officers to be recorded cutting into an authentication membrane before lawful custody was established.”

Kaun’s remote seal flashes beside him, confirming evidence packet transfer.

I breathe again.

Sen’s smile thins. “And yet, Specialist, your emotional entanglement remains undisputed.”

Rethan looks to me then.

Only for a heartbeat.

“Yes,” he says. “My disclosure remains undisputed. So does the evidence.”

For once that morning, someone near the back exhales a laugh.

Adjudicator Salo looks to me. “Miss Hartwell, you requested resident standing. You may speak for settlement continuity.”

I imagined this moment all night. I prepared clean lines. Strong lines. Lines Rethan gently corrected until I threatened him with chalk.

Now all of them vanish.

I face the wall of families.

Then Celia.

Then Nara’s sleeping son.

Then the screens filled with people Helix meant to frighten into silence.

“My name is Lucy Hartwell,” I say. “I was born in Solaris Valley. My parents were married under the harvest tree behind the schoolhouse. My grandmother is buried on the rise Helix renamed undeveloped land. I learned to swim in the north cistern before anyone told me water could be evidence.”