The attic smelled of dust and forgotten things. I’d never been up here before, not really. Mom’s voice echoed in my head—”You’ll find what you need when you’re ready.” But I wasn’t ready. Not for this. The boards groaned beneath…
Mara’s boots crunched over gravel as she climbed the hill, the wind tugging at her jacket like a desperate hand. The lighthouse stood ahead, its white stone weathered to a dull gray, the glass of its dome shattered in places.…
The salt-kissed air bit at Clara’s cheeks as she trudged through the tide-puddled dock, her boots squelching with each step. The journal had been hidden beneath a loose plank, its leather cover cracked and brittle. She pried it free, fingers…
Mara’s boots crunched over frozen gravel as she pulled her jacket tighter, the wind slicing through the thin fabric. Jax jogged to catch up, his breath visible in the pale afternoon air. “You sure about this?” he asked, glancing at…
The salt air bit Mara’s cheeks as she traced the cracked spine of the journal, its leather cover damp from the fog that clung to the cliffs like a secret. The lighthouse beam swept across the darkening sea, casting jagged…
The salt air stung Lila’s cheeks as she dug her fingers into the rusted railing of the abandoned lighthouse. Waves crashed against the rocks below, their roar a constant companion since the day the town had sealed the lower levels.…
The attic reeked of dust and old secrets. Lena’s boots scuffed the floorboards as she crouched, her fingers brushing the edge of a hidden panel. The air was thick, stagnant, as if the house itself held its breath. She’d found…
The salt-kissed air tasted of brine and possibility as Mara traced the chipped edge of the map with her thumb. The paper had survived decades in her grandmother’s attic, its ink faded to sepia, but the lighthouse symbol still burned…
The first time Maya heard the whisper, she was scrubbing the kitchen floor, her fingers raw from the abrasive cleaner. The sound slithered through the house like a snake in the grass—soft, deliberate, and wrong. She froze, the sponge dangling…
Mara stepped off the bus, her boots crunching on gravel as the salt-tinged wind tugged at her coat. The town of Seabrook stretched before her, its weathered cottages huddled like secrets against the cliffs. She hadn’t set foot here since…
Jordan found the journal beneath the floorboard of their father’s study, its leather cover cracked like dried mud. The air smelled of mildew and old paper, the kind that clung to your fingers. They didn’t remember the study having a…
The lighthouse stood like a skeletal finger against the storm-churned sea, its white paint peeling in strips that fluttered in the wind. Mira tightened her grip on the rusted railing, her boots squelching in the mud as she climbed the…
The salt air stank of diesel and decay when Maren stepped off the rusted ferry, her boots crunching over gravel as the tide gnawed at the dock’s splintered planks. The lighthouse loomed behind her, its white paint peeling like dead…
The storm broke at dawn, splitting the sky into jagged shards of gray. Lila stood at the edge of the woods, her boots sinking into mud as the wind clawed at her coat. The air reeked of wet pine and…
## The Chromatic Bloom Rain hammered the corrugated steel roof, a relentless percussion against Elara’s world. A damp chill clung to her skin despite the unnatural heat blooming from the firestarter paper clutched in her hand. The paper didn’t burn…