I didn’t look at Wyler.

I looked straight at the fourth row of the bleachers, where Matty sat in his blue checked shirt.

His round plastic wire-rimmed glasses reflected the yellow lights overhead.

“My name is Sarah Merrick,” I said. “I’m an Explosive Ordnance Disposal Master Chief in the United States Navy.”

A boy in the front row leaned forward on the wooden railing, a red plastic lunch ticket in his hand.

“Lieutenant Wyler is right about one thing,” I said into the mic.