Public truth has a sound in Salt-Turn: rope going quiet.

You stand by the Promise-Post with Kade’s chest unlocked and the coat visible, whole, not waved like a flag. “Not salvage,” you say. Curiosity, not shame. Kade’s ears are red. Wren’s jaw works.

You name things kindly. Selkie door, if you live in that story. Seal’s coat, if you live in Pell’s. Both, if you are grown enough for pockets. The Storm-Horse stays a name for the bar. Fish stay a stock, not a panic.

People come closer. They wanted a miracle pelt. They get an ocean in their heads instead.

Kade can still be a harbor-master after this. Wren can still fish after. The question is whether the coat goes home tonight or sits in a story-box until morning, which is not the same kindness.