Soren was waiting at the main wing’s east service entrance at 7:40.
“The assignment,” he said.
“It is legal.”
“I know. That does not mean it goes unchallenged.”
His expression carried the stillness of a man who had already calculated the cost. Challenging a Beta’s signed order through official channels would place his name in the same administrative current already closing around Wren.
She did not tell him not to.
“Thank you,” she said.
Soren nodded once. “Give me the original times.”
Wren handed him the copy she had made before the first crossing. She pointed to the seven-minute overlap, the main-wing runner list, and the unchanged kitchen staffing schedule.
“The shortage does not exist,” she said. “The assignment office can verify that without interpreting motive.”
“Good.”
“Yo
