“What sentence?” Malik asked from the doorway, where he had joined them after work.

“‘I am entitled to occupy this space.’ Every exercise ends with that line. Even when we’re standing where we shouldn’t be.”

The participants looked at one another. Ethel said she had been told to say it. Anthony had, too. Nora remembered repeating it beside Elena’s fence during rehearsal, feeling foolish and stubborn at the same time.

“That’s the phrase they want on camera,” Malik said. “It’s short, provocative, and easy to isolate.”

Elena suddenly understood why Nora had waited at the pool. The company needed the homeowner to step outside and make a scene. If Elena stayed calm behind the glass, the assignment could not generate the material Simon had promised his clients.

“Then we need a different way to speak,” Elena said.

Frances held up a hand. “We do not need to outsmart them in a confrontation. We need to stop anyone else getting hurt.”

“Agreed,” Elena replied. “And we need the people they’re calling unstable to decide whether they want their stories told.”

Nora finally looked up. “I do,” she said. “But I want my own words.”

CHAPTER FIVE — THE ROOM ABOVE THE PRINT SHOP

Alder Street was busy enough to conceal nearly anything ordinary. Delivery trucks backed toward loading bays. Teenagers carried iced drinks across the pavement. A tailor advertised same-day hems beneath an awning bleached pink by the sun. The print shop stood between a dentist and a store selling used office furniture. On the second floor, behind frosted glass, Civic Harmony Metrics occupied four rooms that smelled of toner and new carpet.

Elena did not go there to sneak inside. Nora had been invited to a scheduled account meeting and asked Imani to accompany her. Elena waited outside with Malik, prepared to leave if the conversation became unsafe. They agreed in advance that no one would go beyond the public reception area and nobody would record private conversations without understanding local rules.

Nora entered holding a folder of appointment notices. The receptionist glanced at Imani with visible surprise.

“I have a support person,” Nora said. “I won’t discuss my participation alone.”

“Our sessions are confidential,” the receptionist replied.

“Then give me a written explanation of why she cannot be present.”

For a moment the receptionist seemed genuinely uncertain. She made a call. Soon Simon appeared in a charcoal jacket, smiling as if he’d been waiting for Nora to make an amusing joke.

“Mrs. Fenwick. I’m pleased you’ve come to finish the process.”

“I’m here to ask for my records and to tell you I withdraw from any future exercises.”

Simon led them into a conference room. Across the hall, a technician was adjusting a wall display. Through the open doorway Nora glimpsed an image of a fenced backyard and a caption reading PARTICIPANT 17 — ESCALATION INCOMPLETE. She felt the room tilt for an instant. The backyard was Elena’s. The footage showed Nora standing beside the pool, but the image was cropped so that the bag and floating garbage were barely visible. It emphasized only Nora’s angry face.