“Who’s certified to operate it?” Victor asked.

No one answered.

Priya closed her notebook. “This job is not restarting today.”

Owen took off his hard hat and threw it onto the hood of a pickup. “You are turning a simple move into a circus.”

Victor looked at him evenly. “No. We are discovering how many shortcuts were hidden inside the word simple.”

12. A DIFFERENT KIND OF FOUNDERS’ DAY

At noon, the city announced that the Blue Trail would remain closed for the weekend. The annual procession could not use its traditional route. The news spread faster than the correction about the machine had.

Parents were disappointed. Children cried. A few residents blamed Mara despite everything that had happened. Others blamed Doreen. Some demanded that Founders’ Day be canceled entirely.

Doreen spent the afternoon walking the neighborhood with Lenora and Jessa, asking what people would need to move the celebration to the front street. The answer was more complicated than she expected. The front road had parked cars, no shade, and a dangerous blind corner. The church lawn was large enough for the younger children but not for the parade. The school gym was available, but only until four.

“We could do the riddle stations in the gym,” Jessa suggested.

“The children want to see the mural,” Lenora said.

“Then we make a new mural.”

Doreen shook her head. “That’s not the same.”

Jessa stopped walking. “Mrs. Pike, nobody said it was the same. We can make it good without pretending it’s the old trail.”

Doreen looked at the teenager. She had been so determined to preserve one version of the day that she had forgotten why it mattered.

“What would you make?” she asked.

Jessa’s eyes lit up. “A moving mural. Long rolls of paper on tables. Every child adds something, and we carry it through the gym like a banner.”

Lenora smiled. “We could hang the lanterns above it.”

“And put Frank’s wooden bird at the first station,” Doreen said.

They began making calls. By evening, the school had agreed to extend the gym booking. The church lent folding tables. A bakery donated rolls and fruit. Parents offered to supervise the crossing at the front road.

Mara came by as they were setting up the tables. She carried a box of bright blue floor tape.

“I heard you needed a route,” she said.

Jessa grinned. “You know anything about routes?”

“A little.”

Mara helped mark a one-way path through the gym, wide enough for strollers and wheelchairs. She positioned the tables so children could stop without blocking the flow. She checked the exits and kept the lantern cords away from walking areas.

Doreen watched her work and understood something uncomfortable: the woman she had accused of hating the neighborhood was spending her Friday night making sure its children could celebrate safely.