The marker nobody had used sat cleaner than the others.
That bothered Ty more than the word stamped into it. Marcus and Diaz had scratches on their rims from hands, tables, pockets, maybe teeth if the workers were desperate enough. Trust looked stored rather than trusted. It had waited in the drawer under the kitchen table while everyone who knew the room chose safer words.
"The unused one is either the answer or the trap," Blue said. "I hate when engineering and philosophy share a drawer."
JJ kept her sword flat against the dead lock.
"Marcus got us through Scizor, and Diaz got us through the turntable," she said. "Trust got ignored by people who knew this place."
Ty watched the old hand inside the glass.
The palm stayed open above the table. It hovered over the Trust marker through the case wall, fingers spread as if the body knew exactly where the marker waited. Warmth continued to clear the glass. Water ran down the sides and dripped onto the flour dust below.
