The crowd parts easily for Rose as she departs. People look around in a daze. It is as though the sun has just set, a golden shine blazing brightly and then fading into the evening.

Rose withdraws to the edge of the seashore, standing on the beach, the Golden Gate Bridge is outlined in fiery orange as the sun also falls below the ocean.

Marchande is still on stage, just at the very edge, and Charlotte on the side to receive her.

Stephanie is in the audience, by a hot dog stand, $150 richer and with several drivers licenses, insurance cards, and that glasses cleaning cloth she found.

Speaker Kalina Rose remains by the podium. Most of the journalists and onlookers seem confused at Rose's departure. Stepping up to the podium, the fetch says "Nothing more needs to be said. Let...let the festivities commence." With that, she steps back to her seat and sits, facing forward, staring at nothing in particular.

The wicker man doesn't appear to have moved an inch, relaxing comfortably in his chair.

And over the bridge, the first fireworks start, a red and gold burst over the central tower.