The floor is clear. Not enough. I need high ground. Carried the wooden ruler tucked in one fist and pushed out into the corridor. The living room opened wide. Beside the wall, a stack of hardcover books rose toward a broad wooden sill bathed in bright daylight. I planted one heavy foot onto the lowest spine. Tested the balance. Solid. Hauled myself upward ridge by ridge, hauling my weight with short, gruff breaths. Made the broad wooden ledge. Dropped down onto thick knuckles. From here, the entire territory lies below: carpet, table legs, distant doorway. All monitored. Nothing enters unseen.