What if nothing you touched could ever truly leave you?

Eiren Drael has built her career separating evidence from assumption. As a provenance specialist, she knows that an object can carry a history without proving every story told about it.

Then a government record links her to Veli Sorn.

Veli has been dead for seven years.

Eiren has never knowingly met her.

The system does not claim they touched. It does something more unsettling: it proves that somewhere across objects, places, records, and people, a chain exists between them.

At first, the Civic Provenance Extract is little more than an administrative curiosity. But as Nareveth embraces a powerful new system capable of mapping human association, uncertainty begins to disappear from the public version. Complex evidence becomes simple classifications. Classifications become scores. Scores become reputation.

Soon employers want cleaner histories. Insurers want fewer associations. Strangers judge one another by how many people, places, and objects stand between them.

And ordinary human contact begins to look like contamination.

As Eiren follows the impossible-looking connection back through forgotten objects and institutional records, she discovers that the most dangerous part of the system is not that it lies.

It is that almost everything it says can be true.

A clinical, unsettling literary horror novel about privacy, evidence, memory, social purity, and the terrifying distance between what a record proves and what people decide it means.

Everything You Have Ever Touched Is Still on You asks a simple question with no clean answer:

If every connection in your life could be preserved forever, how much of you would still belong to you?