Her name was Aria Wen.
Twenty-six.
Second-generation advisory line.
Recently elevated into a visibility position she had not been expected to hold for another three years.
Which made her—
perfect.
Daniel pulled up her profile in under thirty seconds.
"She's already engaged with the Minimum Terms draft," he said. "Shared it twice. Commented once."
Evelyn nodded.
"What did she say?"
Daniel scrolled.
Then read aloud:
"If we don't define support now, we'll spend another decade pretending we don't see what it does."
Silence.
Cassian's mouth shifted slightly.
"She's not careful."
"No," Evelyn said.
"She's clear."
A beat.
"And new."
Damian leaned forward.
"Which makes her exposed."
"Yes."
The pattern was obvious now.
Not because Leon was predictable.
Because he was consistent.
He didn't destroy systems first.
He destabilized belief.
And the fastest way to destabilize belief—
was to show that clarity came with cost.
Daniel's screen updated again.
A meeting request.
Private.
Urgent.
Sent to Aria Wen.
Subject:
Support Alignment Review
Evelyn didn't need to read further.
"Where?" she asked.
Daniel checked.
"Internal advisory office. Closed session."
Of course.
Cassian straightened.
"We move."
"No."
Evelyn's answer came immediately.
Damian frowned.
"You said we wait for the point."
"This is the point."
"Yes."
"And we still don't move?"
Evelyn turned to him.
"Not yet."
Silence.
Because that went against instinct.
Against urgency.
Against protection.
But not against strategy.
"If we intervene now," she said, "we confirm his narrative."
"That younger women can't hold their position without support."
Cassian nodded once.
"Then what do we do?"
Evelyn looked at Aria's name on the screen.
Then at the Minimum Terms document.
Then back at the room.
"We let her stand."
Daniel's voice dropped.
"And if she falls?"
Evelyn didn't look away.
"Then we make sure she doesn't fall alone."