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“That moves during resets?” I asked.

“Only if we need full width for equipment. During operation it stays locked here.”

She crouched and touched the brake lever with two fingers.

I checked the clearance on either side. “If it moved across the passage?”

“It would block the direct transition.”

“What’s the alternative?”

Sybil stood and pointed through a rear opening. “Current emergency lane goes that way.”

We stepped through.

Outside, a short staff path ran along the back of the structure before reconnecting near the next entrance. Wind cut across the open strip, carrying wood smoke and the sweet smell of apples from the public side of the farm.

At the rear exit, a length of rope hung beside the frame.

Sybil caught it and pulled once.

A bell clanged overhead.

The sound carried through the set and out into the corn.

I looked up.

“That’s normal?”

“Part of the scene. One of the performers rings it when the last scare triggers.”

“And if you needed somebody outside to know you’d reached this exit?”

She gave me a curious look.

“It would do that too.”

“Good.”

Her gaze stayed on me while I checked the outside path.

“You really do this everywhere.”

“Do what?”

“Look at everything like you expect somebody to turn it into a problem.”

“I expect people to use whatever is available.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

“It’s kept people alive.”

The answer came out more heavily than I intended.

She looked back toward the bell. “Then remember where that is. I moved this exit last year when I redesigned the rear section.”

“What was here before?”