Chapter 10 - After the SirenMaya's cheek had healed.
Her reputation had not.
A week after the rescue, strangers still stopped her in grocery stores.
Some thanked her.
Others asked whether the wealthy family was going to sue her.
One woman whispered, "Did you really hurt that little girl?"
Maya left her shopping basket behind and walked out.
At home, she sat on the kitchen floor until her older sister Lucia found her.
Lucia was thirty-two, a high school science teacher with little patience for self-pity and enormous patience for people she loved.
"You haven't eaten," Lucia said.
"I'm not hungry."
"That's what you said yesterday."
Maya leaned against the cabinets.
"I keep seeing her fall."
Lucia lowered herself beside her.
"Ava?"
Maya nodded.
"I was close enough to see the grandmother walking away. I saw the child alone. I should have moved sooner."
"You moved when you saw the danger."
"I knew that section was unsafe."
"You reported it."
"Nobody closed it."
Lucia looked at her sister.
"Maya, you're turning other people's decisions into your own failures."
Maya wiped her eyes.
"She was so small."
Lucia pulled her into an embrace.
"Then remember the part where you got her out."
That afternoon, Maya attended a meeting with Denise and a city personnel officer.
The internal review remained open.
Denise explained that footage and witness statements were being examined.
Maya's certification had not been revoked, and her administrative leave was paid, but she could not return to active beach duty until the review concluded.
"How long?" Maya asked.
"We don't know yet."
"There's nothing I can do?"
"You can preserve your notes, cooperate with investigators, and avoid discussing the details publicly."
Maya stared at the table.
"The beach is where I belong."
Denise softened.
"I know."
After the meeting, Maya walked along the boardwalk.
She watched lifeguards scanning the water.
A young boy dropped his toy into the sand.
His mother reached for his hand.
A girl Ava's age laughed beneath a yellow umbrella.
Ordinary happiness seemed suddenly fragile.
Near the concession stand, Julian approached her.
"Ms. Torres?"
Maya turned.
"I'm Julian."
She recognized his face from the still images Detective Brooks had shown her.
"The video?"
He nodded.
"I wanted to say I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"I was there. I didn't notice what was happening."
Maya studied him.
"You weren't responsible for watching that child."
"But I could've filmed more."
"You gave the police what you had."
Julian looked relieved.
Then he lowered his voice.
"Someone's been asking about me."
Maya frowned.
"Who?"
"I don't know. A man came by the stand yesterday. Asked whether I had more photos."
"Did he say who sent him?"
"No."
"Tell Detective Brooks."
"I did."
Maya glanced toward the water.
Julian followed her gaze.
"Why would a grandmother do something like that?"
Maya shook her head.
"I don't know."
But a possibility had begun forming.
Eleanor's company had objected to Maya's shoreline warning.
The grandmother had placed Ava in the same hazardous area.
Then she had blamed Maya.
That sequence was too specific to ignore.
Maya returned home and opened her personal notebook.
On May 29, she had documented the steepened shorebreak near Crescent Dune.
On May 30, Mercer Shore Properties had challenged her report.
On June 5, the city had requested additional engineering information.
On June 14, Ava had almost drowned.
Maya wrote the dates in a column.
Then she remembered something from the day of the rescue.
Eleanor had been wearing expensive sandals.
Maya had noticed them because they looked absurdly unsuitable for the surf.
Yet the grandmother had walked directly into the breaker zone.
Not accidentally.
Not while chasing a child.
She had carried Ava there.
Maya called Brooks.
"I remembered something."
"What?"
"The grandmother wasn't confused about where the waves were breaking. She walked through the shallows with the child in her arms."
"Did you see the placement?"
"No. My view was briefly obstructed."
"Then tell me only what you personally observed."
Maya described it carefully.
Brooks thanked her.
Before ending the call, she asked one more question.
"Would you recognize the section of beach if you saw construction photographs?"
"Absolutely."
"Good. We may need you to help us establish the geography."
That evening, Jack called Maya.
She stared at the unfamiliar number, then answered reluctantly.
"This is Maya."
"My name is Jack Mercer."
Silence.
"I know who you are."
He swallowed.
"I want to apologize."
Maya closed her eyes.
"I appreciate the attempt."
"I was wrong."
"Yes."
"I believed my mother instead of looking at what happened."
"Yes."
Jack struggled to continue.
Maya spoke first.
"Do you understand what you did to me?"
He gripped his phone.
"I'm beginning to."
"I saved your daughter. And for a moment, everyone around us saw you treating me like a criminal."
"I know."
"No. You know what you did. You're still learning what it cost."
She ended the call.
Jack remained seated, holding the silent phone.
He had expected anger.
He had not expected such perfect accuracy.
A few minutes later, a message arrived from Caroline Marsh.
The bank had begun reviewing the disputed trustee documents.
Its preliminary records showed that the notarized authorization had been submitted through an account associated with Graham Vale's office.
But there was something more.
The electronic transaction log identified the device used to upload the documents.
It was registered to a workstation at Eleanor Mercer's private residence.
Jack stared at the message.
May you like
The evidence was getting closer to home.
And the woman who had raised him was running out of places to hide.
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