CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: THE PEOPLE WHO PAID FOR TICKETS

The festival committee assembled an emergency meeting in the recreation center that evening.
The room filled quickly with parents, volunteers, stall owners, and residents who had purchased maze tickets.
Some people wanted the attraction canceled permanently.
Others demanded refunds and blamed Iris for allowing construction to continue.
A food vendor complained that the canceled maze had reduced foot traffic near his stall.
The arguments grew louder until the mayor asked everyone to speak one at a time.
Daniel sat beside Carol near the back.
She had put a fresh bandage around the blister on her hand from carrying the garbage bag.
“They’ll spend the whole meeting blaming somebody,” she muttered.
“Maybe,” Daniel said.
“But people deserve to ask questions.”
Iris explained the changes to the route without using dramatic language.


She described the missing emergency exit, the unauthorized motor test, and the rescue of the two boys.
When someone asked why she had not blocked the attraction sooner, she admitted she should have insisted on a complete shutdown the moment her first inspection request was denied.
The room quieted.
The mayor then invited Daniel to explain the selector.
He walked to the front carrying the brass case and Lorna’s notebook.
He showed the assembled residents how the steel strip prevented the platform from turning into an unsafe position.
He also explained how he had unknowingly discarded the case after finding it in a scrap crate.
“I didn’t understand what I had,” he said.
“I should have asked before throwing it away.”
A resident raised his hand.
“Does that mean the old maze was safer than the new one?”
“In one important respect,

yes,” Daniel replied.
“The older design accounted for what would happen if someone took the wrong turn.”
Lorna described the removed blue exit markers.
Nia explained how the demonstration model allowed a wall to block the route.
Together, their accounts made the sequence of decisions difficult to dismiss.
The committee chair stood and apologized for treating the safety objections as a disagreement about artistic style.
A parent asked whether anybody would be held responsible.
The mayor said the town would review its contracts and follow the recommendations of the qualified inspector.
She did not promise a punishment before the facts were established.
Carol rose from her chair.
Daniel wondered whether she intended to repeat her anger at Voss.
Instead she spoke about the children who had helped paint lanterns in past years.
“We designed that maze so children could be brave without being abandoned,” she said.
“If you change it, you must protect that promise.”
Benji’s mother sat in the second row, listening with her arms folded.
Carol looked at her and did not ask for forgiveness.
“I also entered my neighbor’s yard, broke a lock, and dumped rubbish on his porch,” she said.
Several people looked surprised.
“I was wrong to do that.”
Daniel felt heat rise to his face.
He had not expected her to confess in front of the neighborhood.
Carol continued.
“Being ignored doesn’t give a person permission to harm somebody else.”
She sat down before anyone could applaud.
After the meeting, Benji’s mother approached Daniel.
“Thank you for getting my boys out,” she said.
“I was terrified when they told me.”
He assured her the boys had followed his instructions well.
Then she turned toward Carol.
“I know you tried to warn people.”
Carol nodded.
“I wish I’d found a better way.”
“So do I,” the mother said.
She did not offer a smile.
But she stayed long enough to ask where the replacement lantern trail would begin.
Carol directed her toward Iris, who was organizing the volunteers.
Daniel watched the two women walk away.
The meeting had not fixed everything.
It had made the problem harder to hide.