Rules don't fail loudly.
They fail precisely.
They miss things.
People who arrive a minute too late.Needs that don't fit categories.Moments that require judgment instead of compliance.
The city woke into efficiency again. The schedules were followed. The lines moved. The coordinators nodded at clean numbers.
Everything worked.
Except for the ones it didn't.
Arjun noticed the first omission before I did."That kid," he said quietly.
I followed his gaze.
A boy—maybe ten—stood at the edge of the clinic street, backpack too big for his frame, fingers worrying a frayed strap. He wasn't in line. Wasn't under the canopy. He hovered in the narrow space between flows, invisible to systems that recognized only positions.
The girl frowned."He doesn't know where to stand."
"No," I said."And no one's assigned to notice."
✦
The boy took a step forward, hesitated, stepped back. A coordinator passed him without looking—clipboard angled, eyes scanning the queue that mattered.
