Finding felt like the whole sport. The list feels like school.

You wave Paz through with your gut and a grin. Most of it works, because Reed is there being a recipe even if you are not. The last meter still wants a vote: a trim creep, a second ghost on Yuna’s screen, a basket of tubes that can crack if Minnow nods.

Vargas watches. “You can still say the list. Saying it is not a demotion.”

TIDE reprints the list, annoying, kind.

Paz, dripping in the lock window: “I vote boring.”