The big floor smelled of fresh wax, cafeteria bleach and damp ocean air drifting in through the open side doors.

Four guest speakers stood in a loose circle near center court: a police sergeant, a Coast Guard lieutenant, a paramedic and a city firefighter.

Lieutenant Easton Wyler stood alone at the Navy table under the blue COURAGE STARTS HERE banner.

He had a sheet of wide-ruled notebook paper in his left hand.

It was Matty’s handwritten essay draft, with light blue crayon margins across the top.

“We have to set a strict baseline here,” Wyler said, his voice carrying easily through the empty gym.