Harper’s shoulders tightened almost invisibly.
I felt it.
“She is Harper Avery,” I repeated.
The woman blinked.
Then inclined her head.
“Harper Avery.”
“Hi.”
The translator rendered the Earth informality oddly.
The woman looked back at the missing name.
“My son.”
Harper crouched at a respectful distance.
“What’s his name?”
“Tovan Reh.”
Harper’s face changed.
“Tovan?”
“Not your escort,” I said quietly. “Common name.”
The woman touched the screen.
“Sold from Farseek. No record after.”
Harper looked at me.
Then at the woman.
“Can I add him to the registry?”
“He is already military missing.”
“I mean the rescued-person registry. Cross-link family reports, sightings, transfer records.”
The woman stared.
“Would that help?”
“It might.”
“Then yes.”
Harper pulled a small slate from her pocket.
She carried one constantly now.
“Tell me everything you want recorded.”