Everything below is spoiler-free. Nothing here points at her city — it only makes your pencil faster.
Clues about the name itself clear every copy at once, everywhere in the ledger. Sweep those first and whole pages start going quiet before you ever count a thing.
A struck name is still printed — it still counts for the name, page, position, duplicate and neighbour clues. A light line says "cleared" without blinding you later. Ink erases nothing but your options.
The Olympic list, the capitals list, and the Meridian Note settle those clues — only the names on them count. Check the list, not your memory, and never the atlas. Arguments with geography are pre-settled.
Windows and page-distances are the slowest checks. They're fastest when only a few survivors remain — that's what they're for.
Twenty chapters, twenty sittings. The hunt is designed to be put down and picked up — the ledger keeps your progress; that's what the pencil marks are.
One reads, one strikes. Swap when your eyes blur. Couples finish faster and argue better.
Before you visit the final clue, re-test your survivors against every clue once, cold. The clues never lie; tired eyes do.