The red tape made Waddell's screw too thick for the bracket.
Palla pressed until the damaged threads scored the metal, then pulled it free before the tape peeled. The monitor tile lay facedown across her thighs, with four mounting holes around a backplate stamped with the number four and fresh scratches where someone had failed to grind the mark away.
Below the floor grille, Denna's ruined key remained wedged in the old keeper notch. The black wire ran through its melted teeth and disappeared into the seam. Each time the funeral engine circled Switch Nine, the wire tightened enough to lift the key from the floor.
Palla set the screw beside it and wiped her palm on her trousers. Blood had reached the base of her thumb beneath the bandage, where she could still feel it.
"The tape is the only part wide enough to hold, so cutting it off wastes what Waddell sent us."
