The envelope lay flat against Noah's coat while the microphones kept their red.
Security touched a sleeve and the crowd understood without being told. The lane formed again, not a corridor this time, a path that expected feet to move in a straight line.
"We are done here for now," Ava said to the press. "Pin is live. Watch the ledger grow while we walk."
"Will Mr. Sterling attend the session," the anchor called.
"He will work," Ava said.
They moved. The courier kept pace, relieved to be near people who knew where they were going. Sofia walked backward long enough to post two lines, then turned to the car without wasting a gesture.
In the sedan the air felt like a hallway that had not chosen a room yet. Sofia angled the tablet between her knees and updated the top pin.
"Orchard repair sequence complete," she said. "Rescission posted and read. Withdrawal confirmed. Checkout verified. Ledger at four entries."
"Add the sentence," Ava said. "We are en route to the boardroom. Contact line staffed."
"Added," Sofia said.
Noah sat with the envelope on his lap and his palm on the crease as if pressure could teach paper the difference between a threat and a task. He did not look at the city. He kept his gaze where it belonged, left of Ava's cheekbone, and rested on the red at her lapel when the car hit a seam in the road.
Ava reached across the small space to tighten his seat belt by one notch. Her fingers brushed the fabric at his shoulder and set it flat. Heat returned to normal. The driver found a green light that had been waiting for them.
"Spine," she said.
He did not need the card for this part. "We acknowledge harm," he said. "Pause automation, review flags with affected sellers. Publish criteria and redress steps by end of day."
"Add receipts," she said. "The room will want numbers before nouns."
"Receipts posted," he said. "Four now. Ten by end of day."
Sofia watched his hands while she typed. "Ledger target on the record," she said. "Ten by eighteen hundred."
The car slid to the curb at Nearlight. The lobby had changed again. Protest had tired into a long, low presence. People were still there. People were not leaving.
Inside, security made space without posturing. Press followed to the rope and stayed there. A guard lifted his chin toward the elevators.
"Up," he said.
The elevator remembered their weight. Sofia's tablet reflected the ceiling lights like a river pretending to be still. Noah stood half a step behind Ava and to her right. He did not look at himself in the stainless steel. He watched her left shoulder the way a sailor watches a light that means harbor.
"Phones," counsel said at the board floor, palms open, tone neutral. "Devices stay outside unless Chair authorizes."
Sofia slid over her tablet and kept her printed packet. Ava turned her phone face down and left it with security. Noah kept the envelope in his hand. The seal caught a ceiling light and pretended to be a small moon.
The board anteroom was quieter than Glass Sixteen and noisier than a church. Vivian Kline stood at the doorway with a page in her hand and attention on the three of them at once.
"Ms. Chen," she said. "You will join us for the opening portion. Ms. Anton may attend as note. Mr. Hale, of course."
Marcus's smile found the angle it liked best and held it.
"Mr. Sterling," Vivian said, turning last. "You will go first. Facts. Then we will discuss options."
"Understood," Noah said.
The boardroom was wider than the street and less interesting. Twelve chairs made a rectangle that did not promise comfort. The air had the clean smell of paper, coffee, and a timeline that believed itself.
Vivian took the center seat and did not lean back. "Mr. Sterling," she said. "What has been done since eight."
Noah set the envelope on the table without opening it and placed his fingertips on its edge for the steadiness of the habit. He did not look at faces. He looked where the rule put him and then at the printed packet Sofia slid to his left hand.
"We froze automation at eight seventeen," he said. "We published criteria v0.1 in plain text and locked the appendix for performance review. We signed a rescission letter on Orchard and read it at the door. Withdrawal confirmed by property management. We verified checkout. We posted four receipts to a public ledger. The advocate line is staffed and routing."
"Numbers," a director said. "What is the cash cost of today's redress."
"Documented fees will vary per case," Sofia said. "We are posting amounts with each receipt. Current outlay is low triple digits. The ledger will show the sum in a footer when we hit ten."
"Why ten," another asked.
"Because the street can feel ten," Ava said. "Ten is a day's work you can see."
Marcus cleared his throat the precise amount that suggests caution without committing to it. "We have an IPO on a clock," he said. "Public contrition can become shareholder risk if unmanaged."
"Shareholder risk increases when you ignore receipts," Ava said. "It decreases when you show them."
A director with a pen she liked more than people lifted a page. "Criteria v0.1 includes an exception for charity links within thirty five miles," she said. "Why thirty five."
"Vendor performance bound," Sofia said. "They acknowledged today that fifty stressed the edge. We adjusted to thirty five until they upgrade."
"Public saw fifty," the director said.
"Public saw a rule that moved to stay honest," Ava said. "We posted the change with timestamp."
Vivian put the pen down she had not picked up. "Mr. Sterling," she said. "Do you have confidence in this plan."
"Yes," he said. "It is measurable."
"What happens at twelve thirty five," she said.
"We attend this session," he said. "Ms. Chen's team continues the street plan in parallel. We return to Glass Sixteen after this portion and we keep posting."
Marcus smiled into the window rather than at a person. "The market does not reward improvisation," he said.
"This is not improvisation," Ava said. "This is procedure in the correct order."
Another director held a finger on the packet as if the paper could run away if not supervised. "Tell me why Ms. Chen is in this room," she said.
"Because today is about a repair we asked the street to witness," Vivian said. "The person who keeps that witness honest should speak."
The director did not nod, which is another way of agreeing when other people are watching.
"Ms. Chen," Vivian said. "One sentence."
Ava stood where the glass let the city in but not the weather. She did not put her hands on the table. She did not need to look at anyone to be heard.
"Measure us at eighteen hundred."
The sentence sat between wood and glass and found its balance. It did not beg. It asked to be true.
"Measure what," the pen director said.
"Criteria posted and pinned," Ava said. "Redress framework signed and live. Ten executed fixes with receipts, signed by Nearlight and the harmed party. A public queue updated on the half hour. An auditor's note for Orchard at close."
Vivian's mouth softened in a way that did not change her posture. "What if the clock beats you," she said.
"Then you will have a ledger that shows how far the day reached and where to push next," Ava said. "You will not have adjectives."
Marcus leaned forward. "This company cannot govern by sidewalk," he said. "Our governance belongs in rooms like this."
"Governance is fine," Ava said. "It is also late."
A director who had been silent long enough to make the room nervous said, "Mr. Sterling, if we ask you to step aside while this proceeds, will the street plan continue."
"Yes," Noah said. "Nearlight will do it. Ms. Chen will do it. I will do it if you allow it."
"Allow," the director repeated, not unkindly.
Noah put his palm on the envelope again. It was not a grip. It was a rest.
Vivian turned to Sofia. "Ms. Anton," she said. "Show me the ledger."
Sofia laid four printed lines on the table like cards you would not gamble with. Riverlight. Third Street. Northside. Fable and Thread. Each line had a time and a witness and a small number that felt larger than it looked.
"Post the board schedule note to the pin," Vivian said. "The public will know when we vanish into our own air."
"Already posted," Sofia said. "Header and time."
"Good," Vivian said.
Counsel slid a narrow folder toward her. Vivian touched it once, then opened it. The paper inside was not long. It was precise.
"Mr. Sterling," she said. "Executive session will follow this portion. Before we excuse nonmembers, counsel has prepared a leave of absence letter."
Marcus watched the paper as if it were a mirror that might show him a better tie.
"For whose signature," a director asked, although everyone knew the answer.
"For Mr. Sterling's," counsel said. "In the event the board elects that option."
Vivian did not push it across the table. She left it where it was and looked at Noah, then at Ava, then at the empty space past both of them where the city continued to exist without asking for permission.
"Any last facts before we break," she said.
"Two," Ava said. "The contact line rings to humans. The appendix is timestamped with the thirty five mile change and vendor acknowledgment."
"Three," Sofia said softly. "The ledger will update again at twelve thirty one if the car makes it to Riverlight."
Vivian's eyes made a choice. "Executive session," she said. "Ms. Chen and Ms. Anton, wait outside. Mr. Hale, stay. Mr. Sterling, stay."
Counsel reached for a small tray. "Devices," he said.
Ava collected her printed packet and stood. Noah did not pick up the envelope. He left it on the table with his palm on the edge for one more breath and then lifted his hand because rules are not cords.
Outside, the anteroom looked like it had been built to hold exiled minutes. Sofia sat with her back to the window so the city would not pull her eyes. Ava stood, because sitting is a story you tell yourself. Security leaned against nothing and pretended to belong to the wall.
Inside, someone moved a chair. The sound made the door more solid.
Sofia tilted her head. "It will be a vote," she said.
"It will be a vote," Ava said.
She did not say good and she did not say not yet. She put her hand in her pocket to feel for the red cap. She did not pull it out. Do not give the room a prop it did not earn.
A runner from the floor came with a paper from nowhere that belonged here anyway. "For Ms. Chen," he said. "From Legal. Auditor Gray and Moor confirms Orchard note at close."
"Thank you," Ava said.
"Can we post that line," Sofia said.
"After the note exists," Ava said. "Not before."
Through the door, Vivian's voice was smaller and harder. It did not carry words. It carried intention.
Counsel stepped out to set a glass of water on a side table and did not look at them because he had learned that looking makes people ask questions. The glass stood there like a well.
"Riverlight in ten," Sofia said. "If we are let out in time."
"We will walk in time," Ava said.
Inside, paper moved. It sounded like a letter making up its mind. The handle turned far enough to count and not far enough to mean anything.
Sofia's phone buzzed where she had left it with security. The guard glanced, then looked at Ava. "Pin engagement rising," he said. "The ledger line is being shared."
Ava nodded. The nod felt like thread pulling a seam in the right direction.
The door opened the width of a palm. Counsel stepped into the seam and held the leave of absence letter like a possibility that wanted to be a fact.
"Ms. Chen," he said. "Please wait."
He went back in. The letter did not.