The chair beside Nora remained empty while the room filled.
Eli watched the door each time it opened. A man carrying a folded coat came in and chose a seat at the back. Two women from the bakery stood by the wall until Leah found them chairs. Mrs. Patel arrived with her wrist bandaged and sat near the aisle. None of them was the family representative Nora had spoken to.
The meeting was being held in Mrs. Ortega’s upstairs workroom after the sewing shop closed. Bolts of fabric had been moved against the walls, and the long cutting table served as a desk for Ruth, who had agreed to record questions. The clinic downstairs remained open for a scheduled patient; Marisol had arranged for a volunteer to guide anyone who did not want to pass through the meeting.
Nora checked her phone. “The representative said she was coming,” she told Eli. “She can still change her mind.”
“I know.”
“You keep looking at the door.”
“I know that too.”
The sealed container would hold a small portion of remains recovered after an earlier incident. Nora had explained the plan to the family: Eli would use Gravekeeper to identify the deceased, share the name privately with the representative, and disclose only what the representative authorized. The family had not agreed to a public discussion of the death or the circumstances. If the identification failed or the representative withdrew, the demonstration would end.
Tessa stood near the window, speaking quietly with Mrs. Ortega. She had asked Eli to prepare answers about his registered talent and about the accusation painted beside the clinic door. He had written them down. The paper in his pocket was soft at the folds from being opened and closed too often.
A man in the back raised his hand before the meeting began. “Why are we doing this here?”
“Because people asked for a place to discuss the accusation,” Tessa said. “No one is required to attend, and the clinic is still available downstairs.”
“Putting him in front of a crowd makes it sound as if there’s evidence.”
“There is an accusation people have seen. There are also questions they deserve to ask.”
The man shook his head but stayed.
Ruth wrote why hold meeting at the top of her page. Leah checked the upstairs door and told a late arrival where to find the clinic entrance. The room smelled of tea and the steam from the iron Mrs. Ortega had unplugged before they began.
Nora’s phone buzzed. She read the message and looked at Eli. “She’s downstairs. The bus was delayed.”
A woman in a plain coat entered carrying a small sealed container inside a cloth bag. Nora met her at the door and spoke to her out of the hearing of the room. The woman nodded once, then sat in the empty chair. She kept the bag on her lap.
“Before we begin,” Nora said, “the representative has agreed to an identification under specific conditions. Her family and the deceased will not be named publicly. No one should photograph her, the container, or the identification result.”
A young man near the back lowered his phone. “Can we film Eli answering questions?”
“You may film him if he agrees,” Tessa said. “Keep the family representative out of the frame. If you can’t do that from your seat, don’t film.”
Eli looked toward the representative. She had turned her chair slightly away from the room. “You can film my answers,” he said. “Not the identification.”
The young man moved to the far side, checked his screen, and showed Tessa the frame. She could see Eli and a section of blank wall, but not the chair beside Nora. She asked him to stop if anyone entered the frame. He agreed.
Nora addressed the room. “The representative may withdraw at any time. A successful identification shows that Eli’s registered ability can identify these remains. It does not establish every limit of that ability or answer questions about any other power.”
A murmur passed through the chairs. Eli appreciated her saying it. He had wanted the demonstration to settle the accusation. It could settle only a smaller question.
The representative placed the container on the table. Its lid bore a seal and a number, not a name. Nora had checked the documentation privately with her before the meeting. Eli did not touch the container. He asked whether the representative was ready, and she said yes.
He focused on it. Gravekeeper’s familiar notice appeared.
A name and a cause of death formed in his vision. He read the name once, then looked away from the container. The words remained briefly before fading.
“May I write it?” he asked.
The representative handed him a small card. Eli wrote the name, folded the card, and gave it to her. She opened it beneath the edge of the table, shielding it from the room. Her hand tightened around the card.
Nora waited. No one spoke.
The representative nodded. “That matches the name our family has on record.”
“May we tell the room that the name matched?” Nora asked.
“Yes. Nothing else.”
Nora turned to the audience. “The representative has confirmed the identification privately and permits me to say it matched. The name and other details remain private.”
The man at the back leaned forward. “How do we know she didn’t tell him beforehand?”
“You don’t have to accept my word,” the representative said. Her voice was steady, though she kept the card beneath the table. “Nora spoke to me. I did not give Mr. Voss the name.”
The man opened his mouth, then stopped. The representative returned the card to Nora, who placed it in an envelope for her to take. She sealed the container in the cloth bag again.
Eli had hoped the match would produce relief. Instead the room held a more complicated silence. One question had been answered; the people present had arrived with several.
Mrs. Patel raised her hand. “Can you take a talent from someone who is alive?”
“No,” Eli said. “I cannot take an ability from a living person.”
“Have you ever tried?”
“No.”
“Would you know if it happened by accident?”
“I have not seen anything like that happen, and the ability I know how to use has no way to do it. I can’t explain every rule of a system I don’t fully understand.”
Ruth wrote the question and answer. She did not soften his uncertainty or add the conclusion she might have preferred.
A woman near the window asked, “Does a person have to be brought here for you to identify them?”
“Not necessarily. I need to be near remains I can examine with the ability. I don’t need to remove them from a container if the conditions allow me to use it.”
“Can you do it without the family’s permission?”
The question was different from whether he should. “The ability itself hasn’t asked me for permission before displaying a name,” he said. “For a service like this, I would ask the family or the person legally responsible before using it. If I’m working with responders at an immediate incident, they may need information quickly. I’d tell them what I was doing.”
Nora added, “Those decisions can also be subject to the rules of the agency handling the remains. This demonstration doesn’t establish a general permission.”
The young man with the phone leaned against the wall. “What about powers besides Gravekeeper? People saw you point out that wall was going to fall.”
Eli felt Tessa’s gaze on him. They had prepared for this. He could tell the room about Weak-Point Sight, but explaining its origin would lead toward Darius. He could refuse and let people interpret the pause. Neither choice would cost only him.
“I noticed damage and warned the responders,” he said. “I’m not going to explain every ability I may have today.”
“Why not?”
“Because part of the explanation involves someone else’s private information, and I don’t yet know enough to answer all the questions honestly.”
The young man kept filming. Eli saw the phone’s red indicator. The pause between the question and answer would be visible, perhaps more memorable than the answer itself.
“So you do have another one,” the man said.
“I haven’t given a complete account of my abilities. I won’t say I have answered that question when I haven’t.”
The representative rose. Nora helped her collect the bag. Tessa asked the young man to lower his phone while she crossed the room; he did, though he seemed reluctant. The representative thanked Nora and left by the shop stairs. Her family’s name did not enter the meeting record.
A volunteer named Felix, who had been quiet until then, asked whether the clinic had checked Eli’s assessment card. Leah said she had seen his registered Gravekeeper assessment but had no authority to certify what other abilities a person might possess. Felix nodded, unsatisfied.
“I have a child with an awakened talent,” he said. “I don’t know what the rules are. I don’t want to bring her near something I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to bring her here,” Tessa said. “If she needs a referral, we can help you find another service. I won’t promise that every clinic can see her immediately, but we’ll give you the information we have.”
Felix looked down at his hands. “I thought you’d tell me I was being unfair.”
“You’re asking about your child. Eli has answered what he can. You still get to decide.”
The meeting continued for another twenty minutes. Ruth recorded questions about consent, identification, and whether the clinic would share patient details with a guild. Tessa explained the clinic’s existing privacy practice and the limits of the room’s medical service. Nora offered to speak privately with anyone who wanted advice about a family identification. No one asked the representative’s name again.
When Tessa closed the meeting, several people remained to talk in small groups. The young man showed Eli the portion of video he intended to post. It included the direct denial about living people and the pause before Eli declined to explain other abilities.
“Will you include the question?” Eli asked.
“Yes.”
“Will you include Nora’s statement about what the demonstration proves?”
“I didn’t film that.”
“Then say it was a private match confirmed by the representative. Don’t imply the demonstration tested whether I can take a living person’s talent.”
The man considered. “I’ll put that in the caption.”
Eli could not control how the clip would be edited later or who would share it. He checked that the representative was not visible in the footage the man showed him, then let him leave.
Ruth stacked her notes. “I’m keeping my shift tomorrow,” she told Tessa. “I still have questions.”
“You can keep asking them.”
Felix approached after the room had mostly emptied. “I can’t do my shift,” he said. “Not tomorrow.”
Tessa took out the schedule. “Thank you for telling me. Do you want me to contact you next week?”
“Please.”
She crossed out his name for the next day and called Marisol to rearrange the appointments that depended on his help. One patient could come earlier; another needed a volunteer to carry a supply box. Leah offered to cover the phone, and Mrs. Ortega said she could make the delivery if someone showed her what to bring.
Eli helped fold chairs. Each empty place reminded him that the meeting had not restored everything the graffiti threatened. Ruth had stayed. Felix had stepped back. Neither decision was a verdict on the other.
As he carried the last chair to the wall, a patient came up the stairs looking for Tessa. She had heard the meeting was ending and waited until the room was quiet.
“Someone came to the construction yard asking about people whose talents don’t match their ranks,” she said. “He asked about a worker named Kellan. He came by the clinic too.”
Eli set the chair down. “What did he want?”
“He said he was recruiting. I don’t know for whom.” She looked at Tessa. “I don’t want my medical history passed around with it.”
“It won’t be,” Tessa said. “Can we ask you what he looked like and what he said?”
The patient agreed. Ruth opened her notebook to a clean page. Eli sat down again, aware that the next useful answer would begin with what the patient chose to share, not with the assumptions he had already begun to make.