Tessa first noticed the man because he did not come into the shop.
He stood across the street beneath a dark umbrella, though the rain had stopped. People passed him on their way to the tram. Twice he looked toward the clinic’s side door. When a patient arrived, he lowered the umbrella enough to see the entrance, then raised it again.
Tessa watched from the upstairs window while Mrs. Ortega measured a length of blue fabric. She watched long enough to note when he arrived and which direction he faced.
“Do you recognize him?” she asked.
Mrs. Ortega looked out. “No. He was there yesterday, though.”
“What time?”
“Late afternoon. I noticed the umbrella because it wasn’t raining then either.”
“Did he speak to anyone?”
“I didn’t see him.”
Tessa wrote the time and location in her notebook, adding that Mrs. Ortega had seen the man the previous day but could not say what he was doing. She did not write guild observer. That would be an explanation, not an observation.
By the time she went downstairs, the man had moved to the corner. She watched him from the clinic doorway for a few seconds, then called Eli.
“There may be someone watching the entrance,” she said. “A man with a dark umbrella. Mrs. Ortega saw him yesterday, and I’ve seen him look toward the door several times today.”
“Did Pell send him?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m coming.”
“Don’t approach him alone.”
“I can ask what he wants.”
“You can, but I’d rather we decide how first. I’m calling someone who can advise us.”
Eli reached the shop before the call ended. Tessa stood near the table with her phone against her ear. He went to the window and saw the man across the street. The umbrella was closed now, its tip resting on the pavement.
The sight brought back the person he had noticed near the registry after the interview. He could not be sure it was the same man. The umbrella looked similar, but the street had been crowded and he had not paid attention to the face.
Tessa ended the call. “A patient advocate is coming after the clinic closes. Her name is Nora Singh. She helped a family understand a guild consent form last week.”
“Did you tell her about me?”
“I told her we had an interview with an investigator and someone may be watching the clinic. I didn’t tell her about your memory or the ability.”
Eli looked out again. “He was near the registry after our interview. I think it was him.”
“Are you sure?”
“No. I noticed an umbrella. I didn’t look closely enough at the person.”
She wrote that down. “Thank you for saying what you’re unsure about.”
“I could follow him and find out where he goes.”
“And leave the clinic without telling anyone where you are?”
“I just told you.”
“You told me an idea. You haven’t told me what you’d do if he notices you following him.”
“I’d ask who he works for.”
“Alone, on a street where neither of us has a witness. If there’s an argument, we may have only his account and yours.”
“He could leave before Nora gets here.”
“Yes. We may not get an answer today.”
That was difficult to accept. Eli had spent years watching other people control the information around him. Now the man across the street might hold a piece of the answer, and waiting felt like letting it walk away. But Tessa had not told him to ignore the man. She had recorded what she saw and sought someone who could help them approach him without involving patients.
“What do we do in the meantime?” he asked.
“Tell the volunteers what we’ve observed. Ask them not to approach him alone or give him patient information. If he speaks to them, they can write down what he says.”
Leah came downstairs carrying the supplier’s invoice. Tessa explained the situation without identifying the man as an investigator. Leah went to the window, looked briefly, and stepped back.
“He asked me what time the clinic closed yesterday,” she said. “I thought he wanted an appointment.”
“What did you tell him?”
“The posted hours. He didn’t ask for a patient.”
“Did he give a name?”
“No. He said he was checking whether a friend could come in.”
“Did he describe the friend?”
“He said she’d hurt her hand. I told him we could offer a wound check but not emergency care, and that she should call first.”
Tessa wrote Leah’s account with the approximate time. “Did he take the number?”
“He photographed the sign.”
Tessa asked Leah to keep the ordinary appointment process in place and to tell her if the man returned with a patient. Together they moved the appointment book away from the doorway, where a visitor could no longer read its open pages while waiting.
An hour later, while Marisol treated a scheduled patient behind the screen, the man crossed the street. He stopped at the posted sign and took out his phone. Eli stood near the shelves, where he could see him through the glass without being visible from the sidewalk.
“He’s photographing it again,” Eli said.
“Write the time,” Tessa replied.
The man put his phone away and walked on. He did not enter. Tessa checked the sign after he passed; it had not been altered, and the clinic’s hours were still readable.
When the last treatment ended and the patient was gathering her things, Nora arrived carrying a canvas folder. She was in her forties, with a short raincoat and a voice that made each question sound like a request for a precise measurement.
“Tell me what you’ve seen,” she said.
Tessa showed her the notebook. Nora read the entries, asking which observations Tessa had made personally and which came from Mrs. Ortega or Leah. She marked each source in the margin with Tessa’s permission.
“Do you have a photograph of him?” Nora asked.
“No.”
“Has he threatened anyone?”
“Not that we know.”
“Has he tried to enter the treatment area or ask for a patient’s name?”
“Leah says he asked about opening hours. He photographed the sign.”
Nora closed the notebook. “That’s enough to justify asking him what he’s doing. It doesn’t establish who sent him or why. If he refuses to answer, don’t fill in the answer for him.”
Eli thought of Pell’s questions in the registry room. “He may be reporting to Meridian.”
“He may. What connects him to Meridian?”
“The timing. The interview.”
“Anything else?”
“No.”
“Then we record the timing. We don’t claim an employment relationship we can’t prove.”
Tessa asked whether Nora would speak with the man. The advocate agreed, provided they approached him in public and did not involve anyone waiting for treatment.
“We’ll close the clinic first,” Tessa said. “Anyone here can leave by the front of the shop if they prefer. Nobody has to be part of this.”
Marisol helped the final patient collect her things. Tessa told her only that someone had been standing near the entrance and that they intended to ask why. The patient chose to leave through the front, thanking them for the choice. Leah stayed at the table, ready to note the time, while Mrs. Ortega watched from the shop doorway.
The man had returned to the corner. Nora approached with Tessa beside her. Eli followed a few paces behind, resisting the urge to lead. Cars passed between them and the clinic; the pavement was busy enough that their conversation would have witnesses without drawing a crowd.
“Hello,” Nora said. “I’m Nora Singh, a patient advocate. We’ve noticed you near the clinic on more than one day. May I ask why you’re watching the entrance?”
The man looked at the three of them. He was younger than Eli had expected, with a tired face and a crease across one sleeve of his coat.
“I’m waiting for someone.”
“Who?” Eli asked.
“A friend.”
“The same friend with the injured hand?” Tessa said. “Leah gave you the clinic number yesterday.”
The man shifted the umbrella to his other hand. “She hasn’t decided whether to come.”
“Does she need help making an appointment?”
“No.”
Nora held up a hand before Eli could speak. “You photographed the sign today. Is there information on it that wasn’t clear?”
“I wanted the hours.”
“You photographed it yesterday as well,” Tessa said.
“I lost the picture.”
Eli noticed that the man kept his phone in his hand while he answered. Nora waited for him to put it away before continuing.
“Do you work for Meridian Recovery?” he asked.
The man’s expression changed, just briefly. “I don’t know what that is.”
Nora turned to Eli. “We don’t need to settle that here.” She faced the man again. “Will you give us your name?”
“No.”
“Will you tell us whether you’re collecting information about patients?”
“I’m not collecting patient information.”
“Have you recorded anyone entering or leaving?”
“I photographed the sign.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
He looked toward the clinic. Leah stood inside the doorway, holding her notebook. Mrs. Ortega had moved the sewing shop’s display away from the window and was watching openly.
“I haven’t spoken to any patients,” he said.
Nora repeated the narrower question. “Have you recorded anyone entering or leaving?”
The man did not answer. He opened his umbrella, though the sky remained dry, and stepped around them.
Eli moved after him. Tessa caught his sleeve.
“Let him go,” she said.
“He didn’t answer.”
“No. We have that too.”
The man crossed at the signal and disappeared into a group waiting for the tram. Eli watched until he could no longer distinguish the umbrella from the others near the shelter. Tessa called the clinic to tell Leah the conversation was over and that anyone waiting could use the side door again.
Back inside, Nora wrote an account of the approach. She included the time, location, the people present, the man’s stated reason for waiting, his refusal to give a name, and the question he had not answered. She did not write that he had threatened the clinic or that Meridian had assigned him.
“Can we report this?” Tessa asked.
“You can make a record with the relevant office. Whether they’ll act depends on what happens next and what you can establish. Keep this copy. If he returns or contacts someone, add the details promptly.”
Leah checked the times against her own notes. Mrs. Ortega corrected the location of the shop doorway in Nora’s account; from where she had stood, she could see the group but could not hear every word. Nora revised the description and initialed it.
“What should the volunteers do?” Marisol asked.
“Don’t confront anyone alone. Don’t share patient information. If someone asks questions, note the words and the time, and bring the account to Tessa. If there is an immediate threat, contact the appropriate responders.”
The instructions were practical enough to put beside the phone. Leah wrote a shorter version on a card, leaving out the man’s description so the clinic would not treat every person with an umbrella as suspect. Tessa read it and added a line: Patients may choose whether to discuss an approach; do not pressure them to be witnesses.
Eli looked at Nora’s account. “He walked away.”
“Yes,” Tessa said.
“We still don’t know who sent him.”
“We know what he said, what he didn’t answer, and who witnessed the conversation. If he returns, we won’t have to reconstruct it from memory.”
Eli wanted more. He wanted Pell confronted with the observer, a signed admission, and an explanation for the photograph of Darius’s arm. Instead he had a page of limited facts. He could feel his frustration searching for something to do.
“I’m going to check the street before I leave,” he said. “From the doorway. I won’t follow him.”
Tessa nodded. “Tell me if you see anything.”
He stood at the door and watched the tram shelter. The man was gone. A woman folded a red umbrella and boarded the next tram; two students argued over a bag of food. The street resumed its ordinary movement, though Eli knew that did not prove the observation had ended.
He returned to the table and reported only what he had seen. Tessa added the time to the record. Then Nora gave her a copy, gathered her folder, and left through the front of the shop.
The clinic closed for the evening. Leah locked the cabinet, Marisol checked the washing station, and Mrs. Ortega lowered the shop’s metal shutter halfway. Eli carried the rubbish to the collection point with another volunteer, then came back for his coat.
Tessa placed the new record beside Pell’s form and the photographs of the interview terms. The folder was growing. Each page held a small, verifiable part of events that neither she nor Eli fully understood. For the first time since the interview, he felt they had something other than his suspicion to carry forward.