When the Lights Die, Solve It Blind

You all are locked inside a maze of mirrors, and every ninety seconds the lights cut to black for ten breathless seconds — in the dark the walls quietly shift and the exit moves. Chalk a wrong symbol on the glass and a panel seals, one fewer path each time; you can afford three mistakes, no more. Fifteen minutes on the mechanical clock, and one of you is memorizing the layout but reciting it wrong on purpose, steering the group into dead ends. Only by pooling what each of you saw before the last blackout can the true route be reassembled. So decide now — whose count of turns do you trust, who leads through the next darkness, and who do you finally stop believing?