Three weeks into the agreement, Milo found the notebook.

  It was half-hidden under a stack of ceramic resonators in Elyra's workspace. He'd been looking for the frequency chart she'd mentioned earlier, reached for what he thought was the right folder, and instead found hand-drawn resonograms. Complex ones. With notes in tight, precise handwriting.

  "Guys," he said quietly. "You should see this."

  Jason and Lina came over. The notebook was open to a six-part resonogram labeled Reconstruction Protocol - Personal Study.

  "Is this..." Lina traced one of the patterns. "Is this for Elyra?"

  "I think so." Milo pointed to annotations. "See? 'Damaged patterns.' 'Guided regrowth.' 'Template coupling architecture.'" He looked up. "She's been researching how to heal herself."

  Jason felt RAE's awareness sharpen. That's... sophisticated. This would use our coupling as a template. Teach her damaged patterns how to rebuild.

  The door opened. Elyra entered, stopped when she saw them around her notebook.

  Silence.

  Then: "You weren't supposed to find that."

  "But we did," Lina said, not accusingly. Just... stating fact. "You've been working on this."

  Elyra set down her cane carefully. Crossed to the table. Closed the notebook with deliberate calm. "It's theoretical. Not actionable."

  "Why not?" Jason asked.

  "Because it's dangerous. Complex. Requires five participants working in perfect coordination. One mistake and—" She stopped. "And I won't ask you to risk yourselves for my healing."

  "What if we're willing?" Milo asked.

  "Then I'd say you don't understand the risks."

  "Explain them," Jason said. "Please."

  Elyra studied them for a long moment. Then sighed, opened the notebook again.

  "This ritual draws on guided harmonic reconstruction," she said, pointing to the center pattern. "My damaged patterns can't simply be forced to heal. But they can be encouraged. Guided along pathways that still remember what wholeness felt like." She paused. "I would be the focus. Jason would be the anchor—his role is to provide stable resonance for the pattern to flow through, with RAE maintaining the harmonic foundation within him. Lina, external stabilizer. But we need a fifth—someone to hold the outer boundary. Keep the pattern from bleeding into surroundings. It requires defensive training, stability, and... trust."

  She paused. "Milo would be timekeeper and observer. Outside the pattern, monitoring, but essential."

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  "Five participants," Milo said slowly. "We have four. Who's the fifth?"

  Elyra was quiet. "That's why it's theoretical. I know no one else I'd trust with this. No one else who'd risk it for me."

  Jason felt something click into place. Mrs. Amari. Her watchfulness. Her warning after the scaffold. The way she'd looked at the storm.

  "I might," he said slowly. "I might know someone."

  Elyra looked at him sharply. "Who?"

  "My neighbor. Mrs. Amari. She's been... watching. Since the beginning. She warned me after the scaffold incident. Said I'd been noticed. Said not everyone who notices is friendly." He paused. "The way she talks about these things... I think she might have experience. But I don't know if she'd be willing."

  "You think she was a practitioner?" Lina asked.

  "Maybe. Or she knows enough to recognize what we're doing." Jason met Elyra's eyes. "I could ask. Carefully. See if she'd even consider it."

  Elyra was quiet for a long moment. "If she does have experience—and if she's willing—Holding a position without wavering for hours is not an easy task." She studied him. "Are you willing to ask her? To explain what we need?"

  "Yes - But If she says no—"

  "Then we'll find another way," Elyra said firmly. "Or we don't proceed. I won't pressure anyone into this."

  "Understood," Jason said. "I'll talk to her. See if she's even open to the conversation."

  Jason found Mrs. Amari in the building's small garden. Late afternoon. She was tending her flowers—the same ones he'd helped her carry six years ago.

  "Mrs. Amari," he said. "Can we talk?"

  She looked up, studied him with those sharp eyes. "About what you're planning? Or about what I already know?"

  Jason's breath caught. "You... know?"

  "I've known for months, Jason. Since the storm. Since before that, even." She set down her trowel, brushed soil from her hands. "You're not as subtle as you think. And I've been around resonance long enough to recognize the signs."

  "Around resonance," Jason repeated carefully.

  "I was a practitioner. Thirty years ago. Defensive specialist—wards, barriers, perimeter work." She smiled faintly. "Retired after my husband died. Didn't want that life anymore. But I never lost the instinct. The awareness."

  "That's why you warned me. After the scaffold."

  "Because I saw what you did. What you're becoming. And I saw the people watching." She met his eyes. "You're in deep, Jason. Deeper than you realize."

  "I know." He took a breath. "That's actually... that's part of why I'm here. Not to ask about what you know. But to ask if—" He stopped. Started again. "Would you be willing to look at something? A resonogram. It's for a healing ritual. Complex. Requires specific roles. And I think... I think one of those roles might match your training."

  Mrs. Amari was quiet for a moment. "You're asking if I'd consider coming out of retirement."

  That night, Jason reported to the team.

  "Mrs. Amari was a practitioner," he said. "Thirty years ago. Specialist for wards, barriers, perimeter work and such. Retired after her husband died."

  "And?" Lina asked. "Is she willing?"

  "She wants to see the full pattern first. Meet everyone. Evaluate if we're ready." Jason paused. "Tomorrow morning. Six AM. She'll come to training, see what we're capable of, and then decide."

  "That's fair," Milo said. "She's being smart. Not committing without full information."

  "She's also testing us," Elyra said quietly. "Seeing if we're serious. If we understand what we're asking." She nodded approval. "I like her already."

  "What if she says no?" Lina asked.

  "Then we respect that," Jason said. "And we figure out another way. But I think..." He paused. "I think she wants to say yes. She just needs to know we're ready. That we're not going into this blind."

  "Then we show her we're ready," Elyra said. "Tomorrow, we demonstrate. Perfect execution. No mistakes. We show her that this team knows what it's doing."

  "Agreed," Jason said.

  And as he walked home that night, Jason felt something shift.

  They weren't just asking Mrs. Amari for help.

  They were asking for her trust.

  One careful conversation at a time.

  As he walked home, Jason thought about Mrs. Amari's flowers. Six years of careful tending. Thirty years since she'd left the resonance world.

  Tomorrow, she'd decide if she was willing to come back.

  For Elyra. For them.

  One careful conversation at a time.