work on book 2, also redo of the book title, and code name for Phelan

chapters/book1/CLAUDE.md

@@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
-# CLAUDE.md — Book 1: "The Unbreakable Curse"
+# CLAUDE.md — Book 1: "The Floundry Affair"
 
 > **STATUS: FINALIZED.** Book 1 is complete. All chapters, outlines, and content are locked canon. Do not edit. Reference only for continuity when working on Book 2+.
 

chapters/book1/ch11-final.md

@@ -74,9 +74,9 @@ He led me through a hallway where a younger girl — seven or eight — sat on t
 
 Calla Floundry met me at the front room door. She had the organized posture of someone who'd processed grief and moved to action — spine straight, hands steady, eyes that had done their crying weeks ago and decided crying wasn't solving anything. Mid-forties. Dark hair pulled back efficiently. She wore practical clothes, not mourning dress — function over signal. But the skin under her eyes was dark with exhaustion, and her fingers, when she extended her hand, had the faint tremor of someone running on will rather than rest.
 
-(*The alias. You were supposed to have an alias for client interactions. Ledger told you to pick one. That was — five days ago? You've been staring at house plans and analyzing bracelets and you forgot to pick a name. She's looking at you. She's extending her hand. You need a name. Now. Something. Anything. The Barrows. Verdenshade. Shade — dark, low-growing, thrives where nobody else looks. One word. Ledger is one word. Shade. Fine. It'll do.*)
+(*The alias. You were supposed to have an alias for client interactions. Ledger told you to pick one. That was — five days ago? You've been staring at house plans and analyzing bracelets and you forgot to pick a name. She's looking at you. She's extending her hand. You need a name. Now. Something. Anything. Locks. Curses are locks. You pick locks — find the flaw, work the mechanism, open what shouldn't open. Locksmith. One word. Ledger is one word. Locksmith. Fine. It'll do.*)
 
-"Shade," I said, taking her hand. "Guild of Necessary Services."
+"Locksmith," I said, taking her hand. "Guild of Necessary Services."
 
 The name felt odd in my mouth — new, untested, like a coat I'd grabbed off the wrong hook on my way out the door. But it fit well enough. I'd picked worse things under pressure.
 

chapters/book1/ch19-final.md

@@ -38,7 +38,7 @@ Ledger was at the front door.
 
 He'd positioned himself the way he positioned everything — with a precision that looked like casual presence. Leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching the street without appearing to look at anyone on it, which meant he was cataloguing all of them.
 
-"Shade," he said.
+"Locksmith," he said.
 
 "Ledger."
 

chapters/book1/ch20-final.md

@@ -28,7 +28,7 @@ The siege was over. The house was just a house again.
 
 Calla opened the door before I knocked. She'd been watching from the window — old habits, the ones that formed during weeks of waiting for news that was never good.
 
-"Shade." She stepped aside. "Come in."
+"Locksmith." She stepped aside. "Come in."
 
 She looked different too. Not relaxed — I doubted Calla Floundry had been relaxed in the conventional sense since the curse hit. But the white-knuckle quality was gone. The controlled composure that had impressed me on the first visit — the organized documents, the meticulous timeline, the way she'd managed her own terror with filing systems and clean sheets — had softened into something less rigid. She was still standing at attention. She'd just stopped bracing for impact.
 
@@ -108,13 +108,13 @@ I stood, nodded to Calla at the door, and walked back into the morning.
 
 Fourteen Greystone Lane hadn't changed. The building's deliberate unremarkability — the quality that had made me walk past it six times before my first visit — was exactly as effective as it had always been. The ward-work on the exterior registered through my sluggish Flaw Sight as a blurred suggestion of competence rather than the crisp three-layer architecture I'd mapped weeks ago.
 
-The receptionist was exactly as polite as always. "Ledger is expecting you, Shade. Planning room."
+The receptionist was exactly as polite as always. "Ledger is expecting you, Locksmith. Planning room."
 
 The planning room still had Leon's colour-coded diagrams pinned to the wall. Someone had cleaned the floor — the spot where I'd crashed days ago showed no evidence of fourteen unconscious hours. The guild was tidy about its messes.
 
 Ledger was seated at the table with a thin folder. He'd been waiting — not impatiently, because Ledger didn't do impatience. Waiting was just another form of observation.
 
-"Shade." He gestured to the chair across from him. "You look better than you should, given the reports."
+"Locksmith." He gestured to the chair across from him. "You look better than you should, given the reports."
 
 "Low bar."
 
@@ -168,7 +168,7 @@ I waited.
 
 "What you did. The Floundry case. Breaking a Compact-classified 'unbreakable' curse with a three-phase coordinated intervention using a team of unlicensed operators and a botanical preparation the Compact has spent five years acquiring the supply of." He paused, and the pause was the closest Ledger came to emphasis. "The guild has noticed."
 
-He didn't elaborate. Didn't explain what *noticing* meant in guild terms — whether it was a reclassification, a shift in case assignment, a recalibration of what the name "Shade" meant in the network's internal shorthand. Just the statement. The guild has noticed. Left hanging, because Ledger understood that implications were more powerful than explanations, and because Ledger never gave you a syllable more than he intended.
+He didn't elaborate. Didn't explain what *noticing* meant in guild terms — whether it was a reclassification, a shift in case assignment, a recalibration of what the name "Locksmith" meant in the network's internal shorthand. Just the statement. The guild has noticed. Left hanging, because Ledger understood that implications were more powerful than explanations, and because Ledger never gave you a syllable more than he intended.
 
 "Anything else?" he asked.
 

chapters/book1/epilogue-final.md

@@ -74,7 +74,7 @@ We did another fifteen minutes. The fire improved. The stamina held.
 
 The case brief was on the table when I got home.
 
-Not the table at the guild — the table at Chandler's Row, the one with the house plans and Mere's annotations and the overlap of two lives' worth of paperwork. Ledger had started delivering briefs to the home address three weeks ago, which was either a professional courtesy or an acknowledgment that the Shade's operating base had shifted, or both.
+Not the table at the guild — the table at Chandler's Row, the one with the house plans and Mere's annotations and the overlap of two lives' worth of paperwork. Ledger had started delivering briefs to the home address three weeks ago, which was either a professional courtesy or an acknowledgment that the Locksmith's operating base had shifted, or both.
 
 This one was different.