The mark sat in the third row, boxy, an eagle inside a border, and the ink had a green cast to it.

One edge was soft where the rubber had rocked.

I put my thumb beside it and left it there.

“Supply issues one ink,” Salas said.

“One.

The formula card is taped inside the cabinet.

I checked it against the last two pages before you came in.”

I pulled the card and held it under the desk lamp next to the entry.