Finally, Chip seems to get the idea and takes off doing the inchworm down the beach. One of the other seals pops its head up from the water, as if he’d been waiting for his friend to join them.

Chip splashes into the ocean.

The crowd erupts with cheers.

For the next ten minutes, the seals can be seen off the coast, playing and diving together, enjoying their new freedom. We all watch, trying to capture as much as we can with our cameras and phones.

And then they’re gone.

My heart has swollen to the size of a pineapple inside my chest. I inhale deeply, trying to stitch this memory into the folds of my mind. The smell of the ocean, the sting of the wind, the glint of sunlight. There are even tears gathered in the corners of my eyes, and a part of me wants to write it off as irritation from the wind, but then I see that I’m not the only one wiping tears away. In fact, as I glance around, I’m startled to see that Maya is still there and her eyes are shining, too.

She catches my eye and we share a smile, each of us embarrassed to be caught with our emotions on the surface, but also strangely bonded by this special thing we just witnessed.

My attention catches on another form toward the back of the crowd, someone I hadn’t noticed before.

I gasp. It’s the beachcomber. The same woman who found the earring.

She’s loitering far enough away that she isn’t quite a part of our little celebration, but I’m sure she got to see the release. The smile lingering on her wrinkled face says as much.

I swallow. My gaze darts toward Maya, but she’s gone. I glance around and spot her up the beach, heading toward the boardwalk. Her shoulders are hunched and her hands tucked into the front pocket of that oversize sweatshirt.

I return my attention to the beachcomber. She’s wearing the same belt with the hand shovel and her bottle of water and the little pouch to store her findings.

I remind myself of the mean things Maya said about Jude.

I remind myself that this sweet old woman was picking trash off our beach—not because she’d been promised anything in return—just because it’s the right thing to do.

But then I think about the catch in Maya’s throat when she explained that the earrings had been a gift from her grandmother.

The war in my heart is brief, but intense.

The crowd of volunteers start to disperse, many talking about going into town for a cup of coffee at the Java Jive. I squeeze through the crowd and dart after the beachcomber as she, too, starts to walk away.

She’s adjusting a dial on her metal detector when I reach her.

“Excuse me?”

She looks up and I can tell it takes a moment for her to place me, but then she smiles warmly. “Hello, again.”

“Hi. Uh … what did you think of the release?” I’m not sure why I say it, other than it seems like starting with small talk is better than jumping right into what I really want to ask her.

“Glorious,” she says. “I love the center and what they do. You know, in all the years I’ve done this, I’ve found three beached seals and a sea otter. I like knowing we have a place nearby that can come help them.”

“You have? Wow. That’s amazing. You’re like a hero.”

She chuckles. “Just someone who really loves this town and its beaches.”

“It’s pretty great what you do. You know, helping keep it clean. This cleanup was awesome, but … you’ve probably gathered more garbage over the years than all of us combined.”

She shrugs. “It keeps me out of trouble. And I like hunting for buried treasure.” She pats the detector. “You’d be surprised the things you find.”

It’s my opening and I brace myself, trying not to seem too eager. “Speaking of that. There’s this girl, someone I know from school. She lost something here a couple of weeks ago. An earring. A diamond earring.”

The woman’s eyebrows lift.

“It was really precious to her. The earrings belonged to her grandmother, who passed away, and … anyway. You wouldn’t have happened to have found anything like that, would you?”

There’s a second, the briefest second, when I expect her to lie. After all, a real diamond earring just might be the most valuable thing she’s ever found. Finders keepers, right?

But then she takes a step closer to me, almost fervent. “Actually, yes. I did find a diamond earring. Right after I spoke with you. Over there.” She points to the same spot where I saw her find the earring last night.

“Oh! Great,” I say, relieved that she doesn’t seem upset at all to know that her buried treasure belongs to someone else. “That’s wonderful. She’ll be so happy!”

“But I don’t have it anymore.”

I pause. “What?”

“I already sold it. That’s what I do when I find anything that might have value. I take it over to the pawnshop on Seventh. I would offer to go give the money back for it, but…” She grimaces. “I don’t have the money anymore, either.”

“Really? But … that was just last night.” I do the math in my head. If she sold the earring this morning, and then came out here … that only gives her an hour or two to spend the cash. What could she have done with it? I’m desperate to ask, even though I know it’s none of my business.

“I know. Money doesn’t usually slip through my fingers quite that quickly,” the woman says with a mild chuckle. “But when I see a cause as worthy as the rescue center, I have a tough time saying no.” She gestures toward the tent.

I follow the look. Rosa is talking to the journalist. Quint is putting the extra tote bags back into their cardboard boxes. Shauna is …

Shauna is screwing the lid onto the large glass jar, which is almost full to the brim with money.

“Oh, I see.” I’m in awe as I look back at the woman. She finds a diamond earring—a total stroke of luck—sells it for cash. Then immediately gives that cash away to an animal rescue center?

Criminy. Should I be nominating her for sainthood or something?

Seeing my look, she shakes her head sheepishly. “I just don’t need any more money. I’m retired with a good pension, my kids are grown and have families of their own. I have more than I could ever ask for in this life. When unexpected windfalls like that come by, it seems like the universe sent them my way so I could do something good with them. Seeing you passing out those flyers last night, and then being here to witness the release of those animals … well, that’s just too many signs from the universe that I wasn’t willing to ignore.”

I nod understandingly. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“But that still leaves your friend. I am sorry about that.”

“It’s … it’s okay. I’ll figure something out. Maybe if I talk to the pawnshop they’ll … give it back. Or something.” I hesitate. “I know it isn’t any of my business, but, um … would you mind telling me how much money they gave you for it? Just so I have an idea of what they might be expecting to sell it for?”

“Well,” she says, “Clark—that’s the owner down there—he says it would have been worth more as a set, of course. Not too many people interested in just one earring. And he doesn’t pay market value. Needs to make something for himself, naturally…”

I sense that she’s stalling, and I think maybe she’s embarrassed, but I’m not sure why.

Until—

“But, anyhow. He paid me twelve hundred for it.”

It feels like I’ve just been shoved in the chest. I even take a step back.

A flurry of emotions cascades through me.

This woman just handed over one thousand two hundred dollars like it was nothing—and this, I’m certain now, is why she looked embarrassed. No doubt she’d intended that donation to be made anonymously.

And then … it hits me.

Twelve hundred. Our fundraiser made twelve hundred dollars today! And that’s only from one person! Quint and I had felt like we’d be lucky to make half that much.

Except … is it really our money to keep?

My head is spinning. How did this all get so complicated so fast?

“I do hope it works out for your friend,” the woman says, looking honestly concerned. “It would be terrible to lose a family heirloom like that. But Clark is a reasonable guy. Maybe you can work something out.”

THIRTY

A purchaser of goods acquires only that which the seller has the power to transfer. The property still belongs to the legal owner.

This is what I’ve learned from a few quick Google searches. A piece of property still belongs to the legal owner, no matter who has bought or sold it since. Most of the articles I’ve found relate to stolen property that gets sold off to pawnshops. I know Maya’s earring wasn’t stolen, but the outcome is pretty much the same. She is still the legal owner of the earring. If she went to the pawnshop and asked for it back, they would be obligated to return it to her—especially if she presented evidence that it’s her earring. I figure that showing the earring’s mate would be evidence aplenty.

And this is what I’ve determined, regardless of the interference from the universe.

Maya’s transgression—the hurtful things she said about my brother—was not deserving of the punishment she received. I’m convinced that she wasn’t trying to be mean that day (though I can’t say the same for her friends). And now she’s lost a cherished family heirloom. Regardless of its monetary value, I know that earring will always be more precious to Maya, and perhaps someday her children or grandchildren, than to anyone who might buy it from the pawnshop. Especially because anyone who buys a single earring is probably planning to take out the diamond and have it reset into a different piece of jewelry entirely.

At which point, the heirloom would be gone forever.

So. Maya should have the earring.

But.

No one else who’s become involved in this situation has done anything wrong.