CHAPTER 05
A City In A Screen
By Monday morning, Mara's face had appeared on national television, stitched between advertisements and a weather forecast. Interview requests filled her inbox. A podcast host offered money for an exclusive. A clothing brand wanted her to wear a sweatshirt reading SPEAK UP. One caller said she was proof that humiliation made people stronger, which was an extraordinary thing to say to somebody else.
She turned off her phone and took the bus to the legal-aid office on Juniper Street. Her appointment was with Priya Shah, a lawyer whose website promised housing advocacy, consumer protection, and a direct refusal to be impressed by expensive business cards.
Priya read the note signed by Crowne, then asked precise questions about who had heard the promise and whether Mara had accepted any additional conditions. "There may be a real obligation here," she said. "But the wager isn't our urgent problem. You were recorded without preparing for that exposure. Your employer might receive pressure. And this map you've brought me could be important if the documents authenticate."
Mara opened the poster tube. Priya studied Anika's notes, careful not to draw a conclusion beyond the pages.
"Can I post these?" Mara asked.
"Not yet. A drawing isn't the same as a verified model, and accusing somebody of deliberate wrongdoing before we establish the facts is risky for you and for the people you're trying to help. We'll request the complete administrative record. The city must explain what it relied upon."
She slid a form across the desk. "We can also document your father's concerns as a resident, independently of whatever name appears in the consultant line."
"He won't enjoy being dragged into this."
"Then ask him. His consent matters as much as anybody else's."
Mara appreciated the sentence. Everyone had begun treating her like a symbol, but Priya was speaking about people making choices.
At Aster House that evening, management had new concerns. The owner, Victor Saye, met her in his small office with a public-relations adviser who had never introduced herself to the kitchen staff. Victor explained that Crowne's company reserved private events worth hundreds of thousands annually and that the restaurant could not be drawn into a political dispute.
"I'm not running a campaign at work," Mara said.
"But your name is associated with us."
"Because I was wearing your uniform when a customer insulted me."
The adviser offered to arrange an interview celebrating Aster House's inclusive workplace. Tessa, passing the door, made a noise like a cough. Mara asked whether the restaurant would also publish its record of employee complaints. The interview proposal vanished.
Victor finally admitted he could not lawfully order Mara to remain silent about her own experience. He did ask her to refrain from discussing confidential guest information. Mara agreed. The flood documents had come from Anika, not from the dinner table.
After her shift, Mara met a local reporter named Noah Bell at a quiet bakery. Noah wrote for the Port Alder Ledger, a small newspaper trying to survive by reporting on subjects bigger outlets skipped. He was younger than Mara expected and carried a notebook stained by coffee. He did not ask her to replay the Mandarin scene.
"I want to know why the city summary doesn't match the drawings," he said. "I also want to know whether those drawings are genuine."
"Good," Mara replied. "So do I."
He explained how he would seek official records and give affected parties a chance to respond. She gave him the dates and permit references, but not Anika's name. He didn't demand it.
Outside the bakery, the sidewalk glistened. A little girl recognized Mara from the video and asked whether rich people were always mean. Mara crouched so they could speak at eye level.
"No," she answered. "And people with less money aren't always kind. You have to pay attention to what someone does."
The girl's mother thanked her. Noah had heard the exchange but didn't write it down.
On the walk home, Mara checked her phone for a response from Crowne's attorney. There was nothing about the wager. Instead, an automated email from the City Planning Office confirmed receipt of Priya's records request. The request number looked ordinary, a row of digits in a bureaucracy built to survive ordinary days.
For the first time since the dinner, Mara felt the ground beneath her feet. A viral clip had made people stare. A numbered request might make people answer.
CHAPTER 06
The Offer Under Glass
Dr. Lin Qiao invited Mara to tea at the Port Alder Museum of Maritime History, where the top floor looked across the very water that Crowne wanted to privatize. They met in a room of old navigation charts. The invitation had arrived through Priya, who accompanied Mara and insisted that any professional offer be kept separate from the wager.