Weeks later the microphones bloomed. Officials read names and charges, talked restitution funds and reopened cases. They mentioned a deckhand who saved copies when the originals were doomed, and a fisherman who brought them back to air.
Reporters asked if treasure was found. The chief smiled. “Yes,” she said, tapping the document stack. “The kind that buys justice.”
Rowan didn’t go to the podium. He stood in the back and held still until the tremor in his hands passed.
When the cameras cooled, he walked down to the water and said a thank-you to a plaque with his father’s last name cut in brass and salt.
