The heart-stone was still cold. Hana leaned against the window frame of the workshop, gazing at the stone resting in her palm. The evening sun illuminated the amber-colored walls, casting orange light throughout the space. The shallow scratches carved into the stone's surface became distinctly visible in that glow. Nearly an hour had passed since today's competition ended. Hana could still recall the eyes of that taste-tester. The moment the fourth person put the confection in their mouth—eyes that had grown distant. A body frozen in place. And then, something glimmering at the corner of their eye. Tears. Something Hana had created had moved someone that deeply. Yet she still couldn't explain what it was. (They called it burning-soul technique...) Ren's voice echoed in her memory. "If there's no evidence, rest tonight," Ren said. Knock, knock—the workshop door was rapped in a steady rhythm. Hana closed her palm, placing the stone into her bag. "It's open," Hana said. The door