The first person to leave didn't say goodbye.
That was how Anabeth knew it mattered.
---
Mara noticed the absence during the afternoon check-in.
"Rhea's terminal hasn't pinged in six hours," she said, frowning. "That's not like her."
Rhea had been logistics—quiet, precise, invisible in the way only indispensable people are. She handled housing reallocations, emergency supplies, quiet favors that kept panic from becoming hunger.
Anabeth felt a weight settle behind her sternum.
"Where was she assigned?" she asked.
"South dorms," Mara replied. "She was coordinating medical overflow."
Cassian's jaw tightened.
"She wouldn't vanish without reason."
"No," Anabeth said softly. "She would vanish with one."
---
They found Rhea's office empty.
Not ransacked.
Not hurried.
Clean.
Too clean.
Her chair pushed in. Her plant watered. Her personal drive wiped—not erased, but sanitized.
A professional goodbye.
---
Rafael closed the door behind them.
"She planned this."
"Yes," Anabeth said. "And she didn't want to be stopped."
Mara pulled up the access logs.
"There," she said. "An outbound authorization from two hours ago. Cleared through interim channels."
Cassian exhaled sharply.
"They gave her an exit."
---
Anabeth leaned against the desk.
"Or she took one before it closed."
---
They found her at the edge of campus.
Near the old service road—outside the perimeter's soft blind spot.
Rhea stood with a single case at her feet.
Waiting.
---
She didn't run.
Didn't flinch when Rafael appeared.
Didn't deny it when Anabeth stepped into view.
"I wondered how long," Rhea said quietly.
"Not long," Anabeth replied. "You were always careful. Careful people leave first."
---
Rhea looked tired.
Not guilty.
That hurt more.
---
"They came to you," Anabeth said. "Didn't they?"
Rhea nodded.
"Two nights ago. They said the window was closing."
"And?"
"And that I could either be on the wrong side of a correction," Rhea said, "or alive afterward."
---
Mara's voice shook.
"You fed them information."
Rhea met her eyes.
"Logistics," she said. "Supply routes. Pressure points. I never gave them names."
"You gave them effects," Mara snapped.
"Yes," Rhea agreed. "Because effects are what systems act on."
---
Anabeth raised a hand.
"Why?" she asked.
Rhea hesitated.
Then—
"Because I don't believe this survives," she said. "Not without blood. And I didn't want to be standing next to you when it spills."
---
Silence stretched thin.
Rafael spoke carefully.
"You're wrong."
Rhea looked at him.
"I hope so."
---
Anabeth stepped closer.
"You didn't tell me," she said.
Rhea's eyes flickered.
"That's the part I'm sorry for."
---
"You believe I'm going to be removed," Anabeth said.
"Yes."
"And you wanted to be gone before it happened."
"Yes."
---
Anabeth nodded slowly.
"I won't stop you."
Mara stared at her.
Rafael swore.
Rhea's shoulders sagged with relief.
---
"But," Anabeth continued, "you don't get to leave clean."
Rhea froze.
---
"You made a choice," Anabeth said calmly. "So did I."
She turned to Mara.
"Release the supply reports," she said. "All of them. The ones Rhea curated."
Mara's eyes widened.
"That will expose—"
"Yes," Anabeth said. "The exact pressure points she tried to soften."
---
Rhea swallowed.
"You'll burn bridges."
"I know."
---
Anabeth looked back at her.
"You wanted safety," she said. "You'll get it."
Rhea frowned.
"But not silence."
---
Rhea nodded once.
Fair.
---
She lifted her case.
"I never wanted you hurt," she said.
Anabeth believed her.
"That's what makes this dangerous," she replied.
---
Rhea walked away.
Not chased.
Not forgiven.
Not condemned.
---
The fallout hit within hours.
Supply inconsistencies surfaced.
Delays traced back.
Delegations realized someone had fed them partial truths.
Trust fractured.
---
Cassian watched the reports scroll in.
"You just burned your deniability," he said.
Anabeth didn't look up.
"I don't need it anymore."
---
By nightfall, another message arrived from Elias.
Shorter than before.
Sharper.
---
GOOD.
THEY PREFER QUIET BETRAYALS.
LOUD ONES FORCE ERRORS.
---
Rafael leaned against the wall.
"They'll come harder now."
"Yes," Anabeth said. "But less cleanly."
---
Cassian hesitated.
"There may be others."
Anabeth nodded.
"I know."
---
She stood.
Straightened her shoulders.
For the first time, she didn't look smaller under the pressure.
She looked sharper.
---
"They want me isolated," she said. "So we stop hiding fractures."
Mara inhaled.
"You're accelerating this."
"Yes."
---
Outside, the perimeter tightened again.
Inside, people whispered names.
Trust thinned.
Fear sharpened.
---
And yet—
Something shifted.
Not hope.
Resolve.
---
Anabeth sat alone later, staring at the countdown clock.
48 HOURS REMAINING
---
She realized then:
The system wasn't waiting for her to fail.
It was waiting for her to choose who would fall with her.
---
She whispered to the dark:
"Not them."