The coffin runner caught on a floor seam and dragged Nana's torn index against the iron curve. She stopped before the split could widen, then shifted the runner onto her living palm.
Chain noise came from the east hall. It rose, stopped, and rose again, each pull ending with a frame striking its guide. Nana followed the sound. Her bundle stayed tied under a black wrap at the runner's far end. The severed red wire held every fold in place.
The hall opened onto a transfer bay cut into the rock. A brass switch split the rails: one led to an east service stair, the other sloped toward a prison lock. The first iron frame hung from a chain hoist above the switch. A separate sled carrying another iron frame had passed the fork and was rolling down the grade under its own weight.
