She also held this: she had been in a room — on a floor, in a building — with something that was as far beyond her in scale and nature as she was beyond an ant. And it had attended to her. Had noticed her. Had, in the end, let her go. Not because it couldn't take her — she had no illusions about that. Because whatever she represented to it at Awareness Stage 4, going was worth more than staying. Or because the notebook she had left, open to the last page, had said something it had not expected to receive and had needed to consider.
She would not know which. She had accepted this not-knowing with more peace than she had expected. There were things that were not knowable and you lived with them or you didn't. She was living with them, which was the evidence of her own decision.
Her phone lit up. Three forty-one AM. A message from Rajan: still here. something new.
She sat up. Typed: what?
Three minutes. Then: the database. found a new section. records of transitioned people. she's in it. i can see an entry that corresponds to her location. i don't know what it means but she's catalogued somewhere. she exists somewhere in their system.
