By midafternoon, the White Orchard yard had filled with growers, former soldiers, clinic patients, and people from two nearby villages. Ning had arranged benches in three rows, leaving a wide path between them. A board stood beside the table with the approved route map pinned to it. Wei had drawn the signal sequence along one side in colored strokes.
The public copies sat in a shallow basket. Ning had asked each survivor before putting a statement there. Liao Ren had arrived early and held his own signed copy in both hands. Mei had decided to come but had sent word that she would sit near the clinic entrance with her daughter. The man who chose anonymity had not come.
Ning stood by the board. “We’ll read only what each person approved. Han’s log has public pages and sealed pages. The names on the sealed list will not be read here.”
A farmer in the front row raised his hand. “The Registry printed names already. Are you saying none of them are accurate?”
“The names are real,” Ning said. “The times beside them are disputed. Families chose which route details could be shared. Their private destinations stay private.”
The farmer folded his arms but did not leave. Ning looked to Liao.
