What the Models Missed at the Rim

Thirty-one disks, near enough to resolve. Center bright. Edge cooler, shallower — the light we get has already come through more.

From H to K the fade should ease. The grids said seventeen, maybe twenty-two percent. The stars said nearly forty.

Same direction. Wrong amount. No spots. No hidden companions. Just the rim holding more dark than the page had room for.

What we measure of a crossing planet rides on that fade. If the models under-read the limb, the size we name inherits the miss.

Prague clear, seventeen degrees. The sun at noon still has an edge we have not quite held.