Dust settled on the road beyond the barrier.

I ran my thumb along the inside cover and stopped on a blue thumbprint, fresh enough to shine.

The ink was still tacky.

Salas had the daily ledger open before I got my coffee down.

“Top of the page, Sergeant.

Ninth through the fifteenth.” He turned the book on the counter.

“Every garrison stamp on this sheet is the same blue.

Except that one.”