She peered into the box once more.
A small brass compass rested on dark velvet.
Beside it was a card covered in tidy black handwriting, which Captain Reyes read loudly enough for the beach to hear.
“For people who help others find their way.”
Her mouth tightened.
Then she noticed the second line.
“Today, a little boy almost forgot why he came to this beach.”
Nobody laughed.
Nobody applauded.
That made the silence even heavier.
The woman scanned the crowd and finally understood that no one was looking at her the way she had hoped.
Their attention went beyond her.
Toward Noah.
Toward the flag.
Toward the empty stretch where his castle had stood.
She pushed the box back at Captain Reyes, snatched up her bag, and rose so fast that her hat slipped. Catching it with one hand, she marched across the beach.
At the boardwalk steps, she glanced behind her once.