The phone said C-Donor-Local-222 and the table did not blink.
"Bank double check," Elias said on the speaker. "Under thirty five. Not our hold."
"Consent to show the steps," Ava said to the donor, soft enough for dignity.
"Consent," he said.
"Open your bank app," Elias said. "Confirm it is you, return to the link, approve."
He did. The screen behaved like it had been taught in daylight, not by rumor. The approval arrived with the kind of confidence you can fold into a pocket.
"Read," Ava said.
"Approved," the Harbor lead said. "Token 8237."
Sofia wrote the number in block print where strangers could read it without leaning too close. "Posted," she said. "Footer seven forty."
A donor in a green knit hat smiled at the paper because sometimes you are allowed to like proof. "Teach me the two-step if it pops," she said.
"It will be the same," Elias said. "Neighbors do not need permission to give. We still show the screen how to be polite."
Ava glanced at the clock on the tablet and then at the small speaker. "We owe a doorway sentence at half past," she said. "Sofia holds Harbor. Elias holds overlays. Tariq, route."
"Elevator ready," Tariq said. "Hallway in two."
"On count," Ava said to the line, because cadence steadies crowds. "Three."
The next donor tapped. The reader approved. You could hear relief become routine.
"8238," the Harbor lead said.
"Posted," Sofia said.
Ava touched the top corner of the ledger with two fingers for the length of one ordinary breath. Do not flinch. She turned with security for the door.
The elevator learned their weight and made room. Between floors the small speaker carried Comms like a pulse. "Investors quoting the countersign line without commentary," the voice said. "Off pin."
"Keep it off pin," Ava said. "Air only."
The doors opened on a hallway that had decided to behave like a room again. Vivian stood in the seam with counsel and the aide. The CFO occupied the square of carpet he had trained to feel like a dais.
"Two minutes," the aide said. "Open sentence for the record."
Ava stood where a line becomes a microphone. She set the ledger on the edge of the table so the word LEDGER stared back at anyone who wanted to pretend the word did not exist.
"We served the Harbor donor link at source under the thirty five mile rule," she said. "Approvals post with tokens. Nearlight Finance countersigned at fourteen eighteen to keep gifts live. The pin remains live. Counting Method box is signed."
Vivian nodded without moving more than a thumb. She turned her head just enough to make the room follow.
"Any change to today's target," a director said.
"None," Ava said. "Ten by eighteen hundred. Footer posted with each receipt."
The CFO put one finger on the paper slip that said countersign and tapped it the way people tap when they think a sound can change a fact. "Prudence suggests we pause public posting for the balance of the hour," he said. "Optics remain fragile."
"Public work is not optics," Ava said. "It is work."
The small speaker gave Elias a turn. "Neighborhood banner attempted a soft pause at deli on Apple," he said. "Cut bezel. Cut source. No money path. Posted. Names credited."
"Mirror in small type beneath the ledger," Vivian said.
Comms did.
A director with tidy lines on his page raised his eyes. "Cooking numbers," he said. "Convince me we are not."
Ava set two fingers on the Counting Method box like a person knots a tie the same way because something in the ritual keeps the hour straight. "Adds," she said. "Confirmed fees waived or repaid, today's approvals with tokens, posted vendor credits. Excludes unverified estimates, adjectives, cash gifts outside the link. Updates on each posted receipt with time. Vendor will cite at close. Nearlight Finance signs the math."
"Ownership of the weighting parameter," another director said. "Who holds it."
"Nearlight Finance," Ava said. "Vendor confirms. Appendix corrected and posted at twelve thirty seven."
The aide looked to Vivian. Vivian looked to paper. The room followed.
"The board adopts the Harbor sentence as minutes; pin remains live."
The CFO's mouth moved a fraction and then chose a different hour to try a trick. He adjusted his tie instead of starting a fight he could not win.
The aide logged the minutes with a neatness that made the words behave. Counsel set a small green check by COUNTERSIGN on the tablet as if to teach it manners.
"Thank you," Vivian said. She did not change her face. She did not need to.
Ava lifted the ledger, made a small bow to utility, and left the room behind. Security opened the lane. Tariq had the elevator in his pocket.
Between floors, Comms gave the street back to her. "Harbor tokens 8239 and 8240 just landed," the voice said. "Sofia posts. Footer seven fifty."
"Good," Ava said.
The lobby learned to stop trying to be the main character. Panels held their slide and kept silence. The rope of space outside kept the block from becoming theatre.
Back at the table, Sofia had the line tidy. The little sign that read LINK OPEN HERE had earned the right to stop being nervous. The Harbor lead held up a strip of paper the way people have held up proof since proof learned how to be paper.
"Two approvals," she said. "8239, 8240."
"Posted," Sofia said. "Footer seven fifty."
A donor with a phone lifted her screen. "If my bank asks me twice, will people stare," she said.
"We will teach them the steps," the Harbor lead said. "They will forget the drama and remember the door."
She tapped. A small bank card turned up on her screen. She confirmed herself with the kind of dignity that belongs to Tuesday errands. Approval arrived. "8241," the lead said.
"Posted," Sofia said. "Footer seven fifty five."
Sofia added a short line under the appendix slice in a hand meant to be read by strangers. "Overlay is not payment," she wrote. "Panels and banners are cosmetic. Money path is tokens and receipts."
"Mirrored," Comms said from the speaker. "Chair notes."
A volunteer in Harbor blue poured tea with a precision that would make an engineer blush. The steam kept the block polite.
A donor in a gray coat with a careful wallet stepped forward and held up his phone. "One hundred," he said. "For the shelter. On record."
"On count," Ava said, because cadence makes courage easier.
"Three," Sofia said.
"Two," the donor said, braver now that counting sounded like a habit.
"One," Ava said.
The phone hummed and then frowned with code the device thought was helpful because devices are not good at shame.
"Read," the Harbor lead said to the screen, not unkind.
"C-Donor-Ceil-512," she said. "Vendor cap."
Elias breathed into the speaker with the sound of a person untangling a knot. "Ceiling rule at vendor," he said. "Cap for single small-merchant gifts. We can route a neighbor exception for charity if Finance owns the knob."
"Finance owns the knob," Sofia said, writing while she spoke. "Appendix says so. Vendor confirms at close."
"Consent to attempt a cap-lift for charity under the thirty five mile rule," Ava said to the donor. "Numbers only. No names."
"Consent," he said. His thumb did not shake.
Comms slid in at the exact wrong right time. "Ivy follow-up window slipping," the voice said. "Sellers can stay on speaker at fourteen forty five. Board aide also asks if you can step up in five."
The Harbor lead laid a hand flat on the table next to the tokens like a person who knows when paper should feel a pulse. "We will keep the line calm," she said. "Do your upstairs sentence. Show us what to say for the cap."
"Systems," Ava said. "What is the clean path."
"Short," Elias said. "We set a charity cap channel at source for neighbor gifts under a threshold. We do not touch other caps. We push a one-line rule into the appendix and show the token."
"Comms," Ava said. "Tell the Chair we will need sixty seconds to state the cap fix. We will return to Harbor if the vendor asks for ceremony."
"Copy," the voice said.
The donor held his phone the way people hold birds they mean to release if the bird wants releasing. He looked at the small sign LINK OPEN HERE and smiled as if language had decided to behave.
Sofia drew a clean rectangle on the tablet for the next boxed line so cameras could steal it and still tell the truth.
Ava watched the numbers that were already printed and the numbers that wanted to exist. She put two fingers on the ledger's corner the way she had learned to anchor rooms without making a speech.
The block breathed with her.
The small speaker ticked with Comms' clock and the board's clock at once.
The donor's phone waited for its yes.