The new chalk line ended at a locked door.
Kessa watched a resident follow it with his finger, stop at the warehouse wall, and look at the grain cart marks near the threshold.
“Plenty of room for sacks. Not people.”
The owner held the commercial lease in one hand.
“Those sacks are why supplies keep arriving.”
Several voices answered him at once.
Kessa asked for the storage map.
The roof repairs had held. The raised floor and the ventilation clearance arranged under the earlier exchange were working. The first inspected small deliveries had entered under their recorded conditions.
