As for the case of the boy who had previously lived on the ranch, Amy only knew what her dad had been willing to share—that Ryan Porter was a missing person, and that his disappearance was either purposeful or he’d suffered some kind of tragic accident. But Amy could draw her own conclusions. She was aware that a new search was being organized, this time with the coast guard involved, which suggested to her that they were looking for a body and not a runaway—and, sadly, it turned out she was right.

Ryan’s body was found twenty-three miles south, on the shores of a remote bay at the very edge of the marine search zone. Carried down the coast by strong seasonal currents, the body had lain undiscovered for months before being spotted by a local fisherman, one of many who had volunteered to help. He had reported seeing something unusual on the sand, something out of place among all the washed-up seaweed and kelp. Prompted to take a closer look, he dropped anchor and rode his dinghy ashore, and that’s when he made the discovery and radioed in the news that no one in Seabrook wanted to hear.

For the next week, confirmation of Ryan’s death consumed the town. The Seabrook Beacon ran front-page headlines every day, reporting on the recovery of the body, identification, and burial plans, and, on the eve of the funeral, they ran their biggest piece yet, a four-page obituary entitled Remembering Ryan—Our Beloved Son.

Half was a biographical account of Ryan’s life, the rest a collection of eulogies contributed by those who had known him. There was one from his father; one from Joe and Linda, owners of the local diner, where Ryan had worked part-time; one from Peggy, proprietor at The Lookout; there was even one from the local bank manager, Tom Tippenworth. It seemed the town was full of people whose lives had been touched by Ryan, many wanting to share their memories. Even those who had never met him were prompted to write in and express their sympathies:

Ryan and I weren’t acquainted on a personal level, but it is clear, after learning all about him, that we have lost someone special. He sounds like he was a young man of unimpeachable character, and he has been taken far too soon. To Roger, we send our deepest condolences. We have shed tears this week. Words cannot express how sorry we all are for your loss. I have two young boys, and if they grow up to possess even half the heart and valor of your son, then I should be a very proud father indeed.

That night, while reading through the pages of poignant tributes, Amy shed a tear too.

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