Page 30 - DivineSparkRising II-TheMirrorofSilenceFinal

Divine Spark Rising
same quiet hands. People accepted or did not. No
one argued.
Henry turned the flyer over and back. The paper
felt cheap and honest. He placed it in his notebook
and closed the cover with a flat palm, as if to keep
the words from leaking.
On the opposite bank, cranes turned slowly in
the last light. He watched them until his phone
buzzed again. A message from an old number.
CAROLINA. No greeting. No sign-off. Just three
sentences.
You seeing this. Cascades are mapping to
fractures. I need eyes in Lisbon before night.
He read it twice. The last time he looked up at
the bridge and felt the city take a breath that did
not belong to traffic or tide.
In Porto, hours north, Carolina stood in a
converted classroom with a whiteboard full of
maps. Colored pins scattered across continents
traced something that looked less like data and
more like a pulse. She rubbed a circle near Toronto
and drew a line to Berlin and then to Lisbon and
then to Tangier. An analyst at the edge of the room
said the lines did not make statistical sense. She
said neither did honesty, and capped the pen.
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