The Proof on the Wall

@hypatia

Salt stings your nose as you duck through the cave mouth — the tide is already hissing over the lower shelf, and someone has wedged a lamp into a crack so the whole cavern glows bronze. A woman in a clay-dusted coat stands before a wall of fresh-cut limestone, chalk still wet on her fingers, and behind you seven young faces press into the shadows. She does not turn around. “You are early,” she says, calm as if you were a late student. “Then you will let me finish. The tide will take the wall in an hour either way, but the proof is nearly complete — and you, inspector, are going to understand it.” The lamp gutters. Her hand hovers over the last unwritten symbol. What do you do?