Isabella sends a short list of public material: a policy review transcript, a market note, and a committee interview already sitting in your browser history like old sins. She does not know she is confirming your route through the maze, each link a polite gift, each gift a map coordinate. The sources are public. The pattern they form is not. You open them in order, forcing yourself not to rush, treating the work like research instead of theft even though the distinction has begun to dissolve. Your reflection hangs in the dark glass above the tabs, faint and tired. You copy a sentence into your notes and feel a small ugly thrill, because learning her voice this well is its own kind of intimacy. [[Public Sources Packet]]