The masks aren't art. They're inventory. In the Athena club's "gallery," Jack finds what Vivian Locke was never meant to touch: a cold-boxed silicone negative of her before face-labeled by a ledger that uses letters like a private map: Athena, Bellwether, Crowne. Patterns, not patients. Ownership, not consent.

Sirens strobe, air hums through a hidden vacuum, and the attendants speak in policy. Jack kills the room's advantage, puts the mold in a canvas satchel across Vivian's chest, and walks her out through blue light, not glory. Outside, the city tries to buy the ending with a black car and three easy answers. He chooses curtains and paper instead: a library table, Wi-Fi off, evidence on-Transfers ledgers, reagent orders, courier tags stamped Return on Monday. The initials on the page-A.M.-tie Athena's floor boss, Margo, to the supply chain that turns faces into "product."

Vivian asks for one verb. Jack gives her Return: to her own agency, then to the channels that can ruin the room-judge, courier, composite codes. She sends one photo at dawn: the mold on marble, a hairline crack at the freckle. Not smashed. Not preserved. Kept-until Monday.

Episode 17.5 is the tight-turn middle move: evidence gathered, air neutralized, target named. The next cut isn't surgical. It's logistical.