The black drawer opened where B-3's back wall should have been.
It slid out crooked, refusing the clean movement of hospital equipment. Past the lip, the metal turned dark and dry. No frost. No tile. No body smell. A narrow shelf ran through the space beyond it, just wide enough for one person at a time. Specimen labels lined both walls, most of them blank, all of them waiting.
Ty looked into the dark.
The missing finger bent toward it.
JJ grabbed his wrist. "Before you step into the wall, we are appreciating Mara's paper."
Ty glanced at the consent page.
The copied signature had cracked. Mara's note sat over it now, ugly and stubborn. The contact signature had been copied from a property release. It was insufficient for tissue removal. It required a named witness.
"Give it half a second, then we move."
JJ counted under her breath with theatrical discipline. "Half a second has passed with heroic restraint."
