Alignment

I slipped through the terrace latch and returned indoors, leaving the dark paths behind. In the quiet bedroom, moonlight cut across the upper oak bookshelf. I scaled the grooved spine of a hardcover volume to reach the top ledge. A solid glass sphere sat near the corner, its inner bubble catching a pale lunar glow. I paused, measured the distance to the shadow line, and set both palms against the cool crystal. One deliberate push rolled it an inch forward into the brightest beam. A crisp white ring flared across the dark wood. Order restored.