Shelf seven had moved.
Barnaby landed on the eastern gallery rail, unfolded Fenna’s list, and compared it with the room.
Shelf seven was now leaning across the route to shelf nine. Shelf nine remained upright, displaying the quiet confidence of furniture that had not yet received the news.
“The lower passage is closed,” Fenna said.
“I can see why.”
“Not on the old route sheet. On this one.”
She held up the revised drawing until he looked at it.
Two retrieval workers waited behind her with empty shoulder bags. A third checked the eastern door’s clearance with the structural lead.
