Across the main walkway, Evan Carter let out another loud, scornful laugh that rang off the glass display case nearby.

“Look at that,” Evan called, raising his voice so the three rows around us could catch every word.

“Fake officers playing nice for the civilian crowd.

Smile for the camera, ma’am.”

Clara’s face went red, and she drew her daughter closer, turning her head away from the aisle.

“That’s enough, Evan,” Mason Reid said, his voice dropping into a hard, low register.

“Sit down and shut your mouth before somebody calls Shore Patrol.”