The mirror showed the pulley first,
though all four stayed on deck.
Spencer asked, “Which shadow fits?”
Lex held his fingers next.

They built the answer backward:
rest before turn,
turn before point—
and point before the word.

Rest, turn, point—what shadow do you keep?
Build the question backward; leave the first beat deep.

Callen tilted the mirror edge
to show barn-loft direction.
The pulley view was bright and clear;
the deck still lacked a section.

The obvious tool showed where to look,
not where four hands could play.
Callen tipped one notch too far:
the ribbon squeaked, “Peep!” that day.

Callen blinked. The others smiled
at the peep, not at their friend.
Zylar tapped the funny sound
and moved it to the beginning.

Peep, rest, turn, point—
start where the mistake began.
Peep, rest, turn, point—
leave room around each hand.

They tested stump-school yard once
with four small shadow tiles.
One tile marked the roomy turn.
One marked the narrower side.

A five-minute sprinkle dimmed the glass.
Still air moved no thread.
They returned the ribbon to dry light
and kept the peep instead.

Spencer held the top-left shadow.
Lex held the lower line.
Callen held the peep-side curve.
Zylar left one space unsigned.

The picture almost made a weather vane:
three parts met in play.
One open piece stayed unfinished—
waiting for another day.