Rowan called on the last day of the payment window.
“The money arrived,” she said. “Mine is in the account. Ivo’s is in the account the panel specified.”
Eli stood beside the clinic’s supply cabinet with a box of dressings in his hands. He set it down before answering.
“Did the bank confirm both?”
“Yes. I have the statements. Nora checked them with me.”
For a moment he could not speak. He remembered Garin’s hand on Tessa’s sleeve, the effort it had taken him to ask for the payment, and the blue folder on Rowan’s kitchen table. The panel’s order had been a promise. Rowan’s call was the first confirmation that the money had reached the people Garin named.
“Thank you for telling me,” he said.
“I wanted you to know. I also wanted to ask whether the clinic still needs a delivery cart.”
“Yes, but you don’t owe us one.”
“I didn’t say I was buying it. My cousin has one he isn’t using. I’ll send you his number if he agrees.”
Eli smiled. “That would help.”
After the call, a notice appeared in his vision.
[Final wish fulfilled.]
[An inheritance is available: Anchor.]
The words hung over the cabinet. He had expected something might happen, but the notice gave him less information than he wanted. It did not explain what Garin had intended beyond his request, whether accepting an imprint changed anything for the dead man, or what the ability would cost Eli to use.
He did not accept immediately. He wrote the wording in his notebook, then closed his eyes until the notice faded from the foreground. It remained available when he looked for it again.
Tessa came out from behind the screen. “You stopped in the middle of carrying that.”
“Rowan confirmed both payments. The system offered an ability.”
“What kind?”
“It calls it Anchor. I don’t know the mechanics yet.”
“Did it say anything about Garin?”
“Only that the final wish was fulfilled and an inheritance is available.”
She read the words he had written. “Are you going to accept?”
“I think so. I want to test it somewhere controlled, with people who know what I’m doing.”
“Does Rowan know the system could offer something?”
“No. She knows I have Gravekeeper and that I helped with the claim. She doesn’t know about this.”
Tessa set the notebook down. “What do you want to tell her?”
“That a notice appeared after she confirmed the payment. I won’t describe anything private or imply Garin offered the talent. I don’t know that he did.”
He called Rowan and asked whether she wanted to hear something unusual connected to the claim. She said she was taking Ivo to school and asked him to call back that afternoon. He agreed. The notice remained available; there was no visible countdown.
While he waited, Kellan arrived with a repaired cart borrowed from the construction yard, separate from the one Rowan’s cousin might lend. One wheel had a new axle, and he wanted to test it with an empty crate before the clinic used it for deliveries.
“The axle is sound,” he said. “The handle still pulls left. Don’t load it until we adjust it.”
Eli told him about Rowan’s call and the offer. He did not mention the source of Weak-Point Sight or explain the system’s full history. Kellan knew Eli could identify the dead and notice structural strain; this was the first time Eli had told him about a newly offered ability.
“Anchor,” Kellan repeated. “Does it hold a load?”
“I don’t know. The name suggests it might.”
“Names can suggest all sorts of things. We test with something that won’t crush anyone.”
Sera came in carrying a map from the warehouse inquiry. She had marked the public roads, the shared entrance, and the places where her sensing had been confused by overlapping currents. The panel’s decision had not resolved the rating question, and she intended to keep the map with the evidence rather than draw a line from every mark to Rook.
Tessa asked whether she wanted to observe the test. Sera agreed if she could move the object between attempts without telling Eli where it would be placed.
“Why?” he asked.
“So you can’t mistake anticipating the angle for controlling it.”
Kellan nodded. “And we need a support under the load, even if the ability seems to hold it.”
They chose a cleared area in Mrs. Ortega’s yard, with her permission. The first object was an empty crate. Kellan placed it on the ground, marked a boundary around it, and checked that no one stood beneath or beside a suspended load. There was no need to lift it high for the first test.
Eli called Rowan at the agreed time. He explained the notice and its timing, keeping Garin’s private words out of the conversation beyond the request she already knew. He said the system had offered an ability called Anchor and that he did not know whether accepting it had any effect on Garin.
Rowan was quiet. “Did he ask you to take it?”
“No.”
“Did he know it would be offered?”
“I don’t know.”
“Will you tell people it came from him?”
“Not without your permission.”
She considered. “I can’t give you his answer. I can ask you not to use his name to make people trust you.”
“I won’t.”
“And if you learn something about what it means for him, tell me.”
“I will.”
She ended the call after confirming that Ivo’s account had been opened as ordered. Eli stood in the yard for a moment, phone in hand. Her request did not turn uncertainty into consent. It gave him another obligation about how he would speak of the ability.
He accepted the offer.
A sensation like a weight settling behind his ribs passed through him. No face appeared. No voice spoke. The notice faded, leaving the ordinary sounds of the yard: a delivery truck beyond the fence, Mrs. Ortega’s sewing machine upstairs, and Kellan testing the cart’s wheel.
“Anything?” Tessa asked.
“Something changed. I don’t know how to use it yet.”
Kellan placed the empty crate on a low support with a second block beneath it. “Try to keep it from moving when I nudge it. I’m not putting my hand underneath.”
Eli focused on the crate. At first nothing happened. He imagined fixing its position relative to the ground, not gripping it with an invisible hand. A faint pressure answered the thought.
Kellan nudged the side. The crate shifted a fraction, then stopped. Eli felt the pressure tighten. His concentration slipped, and the crate slid the rest of the way against the backup block.
“Duration?” Sera asked.
“Maybe two seconds. I didn’t count.”
“Again, with a count.”
Kellan reset the crate. Eli focused. Sera counted aloud. At four, the pressure weakened. Eli warned them before releasing it. The crate moved against the block with a dull tap.
“It didn’t erase the force,” Kellan said. “The block took the movement after you let go.”
They added a small weight to the crate and tested again. This time Eli held it for three counts. His forehead tightened, and he felt the same kind of fatigue that followed repeated use of Weak-Point Sight, though the sensation was not identical. He warned Kellan before his focus failed. The crate settled onto the support.
“Don’t try to hold longer just because you did four once,” Tessa said.
“I know.”
Kellan changed the setup. He raised the weighted crate only a few inches on a lifting frame, with a mechanical support beneath it and a clear boundary around the area. Eli would attempt to keep it in position while Kellan applied a light sideways force from outside the marked zone. The backup would carry the weight when Eli released it.
Eli focused. The crate held. Kellan pushed gently with a long pole. The pressure behind Eli’s ribs sharpened, and the crate trembled.
“I’m losing it,” Eli said.
“Everyone clear,” Kellan called.
Eli released. The crate dropped the short distance onto the support. The frame flexed but stayed in place. No one had been beneath it.
Mrs. Ortega came out with a tray of water and found everyone standing around the marked boundary. She stopped at the line without being asked.
“Am I allowed to cross?” she said.
“Not until the frame is down,” Kellan replied.
“Then the water is staying here.” She set the tray on a bench outside the boundary and watched him lower the frame. “Does it always take this many people to move a box?”
“Today it does,” Sera said.
Once the load was on the ground, they took a break. Kellan checked the support for a new dent and marked its position with chalk. Tessa asked Eli to describe the sensation before the release without comparing it to pain he had not felt. He said the pressure had grown uneven, then slipped suddenly when Kellan pushed from the side.
“Could you speak while it was happening?” she asked.
“Yes, but I had to decide to do it. I wanted to keep all my attention on the crate.”
“Then practice giving the warning as part of the task,” Kellan said. “A warning after it drops isn’t useful to someone carrying the other end.”
Eli drank the water and wrote that down. Mrs. Ortega picked up the empty cups only after Kellan confirmed the equipment was stable. She asked whether the clinic’s cart would be ready for tomorrow’s delivery. Kellan promised to check the handle before he left.
Sera wrote the result. “You warned us before it dropped. That was more useful than the extra second you might have held it.”
He wanted to try a heavier load. Kellan saw him looking at the weights.
“Lighter,” he said. “We’re learning the release, not proving how strong you are.”
They removed the added weight. While Eli rested with his back turned, Sera moved the crate to the other side of the frame. She changed the angle of the pole and did not tell him which direction she would push.
Eli faced the setup. He anchored the crate and waited. The pressure came from the side opposite the one he expected. For an instant he tried to anticipate rather than respond; the crate shifted. He adjusted his focus and held it for two counts.
“Slipping,” he said.
Kellan checked that the support was beneath the load. “Clear.”
Eli released. The crate settled safely. A feeling passed through him as it did: a sudden, unfamiliar irritation, sharp enough to make him want to argue with someone who had not spoken. It faded before he could place it.
Tessa saw his expression. “What happened?”
“I felt something. It went away. I don’t know whether it came from the ability or from being tired.”
“Write the timing. Don’t invent the cause.”
He recorded the second use of the raised crate, the change in angle, the warning, and the feeling. He did not describe it as Garin’s emotion. There was no evidence yet that it belonged to anyone else.
Kellan lowered the frame and removed the weight. “We’re done for today.”
Eli looked at the crate. The ability had held it briefly. It had not made the frame unnecessary, and it had not kept the force from reaching the support when he released it. In a gate, the same few seconds might allow someone to move clear. They might also persuade a team to stand beneath a load that could fall when he tired.
Sera handed him the notes. “Tell us before it slips next time. You did that well.”
“I almost waited.”
“Then write that too.”
He did. Tessa gathered the chalk and the timer. Kellan checked the cart’s adjusted handle once more, then asked Leah to test it empty before loading the clinic’s next delivery.
Rowan sent a message later: her cousin would lend the cart for a month, provided the clinic returned it clean and reported any damage. Leah recorded the loan and its return date. Eli thanked Rowan and did not mention the test.
As the light faded, Tessa asked him to help plan the next supply job. He picked up the notebook and followed her inside. The strange irritation had gone, leaving no clear memory or explanation. He carried the uncertainty with him, and for the moment it was quiet enough that he could hear her question.