Tessa heard the tapping before the scrape at the drain opening. She raised a hand to keep the children from turning toward it all at once.
The reinforced wall ended in a low return that had become a useful corner for hiding fear. A child could crouch there and watch an adult’s face without looking into the corridor. Tessa had put the drinking cups on the opposite side. The older children kept carrying them back to that corner, as though water were the one thing they could still make certain would accompany everyone.
“That’s our guide,” one of the adults said after the second pair of taps.
“Let her speak first.”
A spare light appeared close to the floor. The maintenance worker pushed it ahead of her, then came through sideways, grimacing when her boot caught. Behind her, Kellan’s voice warned that the carrying frame had to turn.
Tessa went to the opening. She and the worker took the frame before Kellan could straighten. The litter carrier passed a rope through last. All three had dust ground into their sleeves. Kellan looked at the wall, the people behind it, and the brightening stone beyond the old approach.
“That’s wider than your message said.”
