Word spread. Not because the song was supernatural, but because it told people what they already half-knew: that memory is a living thing, and songs are a way to stitch the frayed corners of life. Sakthi cataloged the reel and kept meticulous notes, but she stopped treating the song like an artifact. Siva kept singing on the shoreline, now with the occasional group gathered to listen. They never filmed the moment or tried to make it a spectacle. They allowed it to be small and human.