He drove to Caelum Western himself.No call to Mira. No calendar entry. No record of departure from the building except the biometric exit log that registered his pass at the ground floor door at eleven forty-seven, which he could not prevent and did not try to.Some movements needed to be invisible. This one needed to be fast.The drive took nineteen minutes in midday traffic. He used the time to think about the photograph Mira didn’t know she had yet, and the card he hadn’t seen yet, and the shape of what Dorian’s voice had done when he said your father didn’t walk out. Not grief. Not guilt. The specific register of someone reporting a fact they had verified rather than one they had witnessed. Which meant Dorian had a source for that information.Which meant someone had told him.He parked on the street outside the hospital’s research entrance and went in through the side door that the building layout had shown him two weeks ago and walked the second corridor at the pace of someone