The square emptied like a throat cleared. By noon the murmurs had become posts; by one the posts were arguments; by two the arguments had spilled into patrol channels where men pretend not to read and scroll anyway.
Nolan set a laptop on the kitchen table and turned the screen toward me. “Say it clean," he said. “Short. Links first. Receipts second."
My mother slid a plate of bread between us like diplomacy. “And water," she added. “Words dry you out."
I typed.
CarolineHale (verified): Winter Stores > Private Villa. See delivery log #4178 (attached). Cross‑ref city receiving ledger (Denton, 11/4). Payment mismatch—Alpha's discretionary fund flagged by auditor last spring (report attached). More to come. —C
Nolan nodded. “Post."
I clicked. The thread took fire. Replies stacked: gas
