The Registry annex smelled of ink, dust, and the citrus oil clerks used on the drawer rails. Zhen unlocked the records room while Gu explained exactly which document they needed: the recall notice expected after the temporary dose amendment.
“Not the final order,” he said. “The dispatch copy, if one exists.”
Zhen set the archive key on the counter. “I can search the period and let you inspect the entries. You may not remove anything. If we find the original, it stays here unless the review panel issues a transfer.”
Bai waited by the door with the evidence case. Yan wanted to take it from him; after yesterday, he also wanted to keep his hands free and not turn every errand into a strength demonstration. He left it with Bai.
They searched the cabinet by date. Zhen read each title aloud while Gu compared the reference numbers to the amendment. The third drawer stuck. Yan steadied it while Zhen worked the catch loose.
“Easy,” she said. “The rail is old.”
He let go at once. She pulled it out herself and found a bundle of yellowed forms tied with cotton string. One page had the right route list: three hospitals and two district clinics. The distribution boxes were filled in, but the dispatch mark was blank.
