The envelope showed up on a Tuesday, sea-blue and soft at the corners. The handwriting belonged to Theo, Mara's best friend from when she was eleven. Twenty years of silence, and now one line inside: "I found the map of Saltreach in my mom's attic. The lighthouse is still unfinished. Want to build it?" Mara sat down hard and read it three more times.

Mara grabbed her phone before she could talk herself out of it. The number on the back rang twice. "You actually called," Theo said, like he'd been holding his breath for days. "Saturday. Meet me at the old dock. Bring boots." Mara laughed for the first time in weeks and said yes.

Mara arrived at the dock to find it taped off and a town notice nailed to a post. The cliff where the lighthouse was meant to stand had been sold to a developer. Theo stood staring at the sign. "They're putting up a parking lot," he said quietly. "We have two weeks before they break ground."

Mara and Theo spent two weeks knocking on every door in Saltreach. They showed people the old map and the crayon drawing. At the town meeting, dozens packed the hall. An old fisherman stood up. "My father helped pour that first stone," he said. "We're not paving over it." The room erupted. The vote wasn't even close.