Lila’s fingers brushed the edge of the journal, its leather cover cracked and stiff with salt. She pulled it from the hollow beneath the dock, where the tide had left it like a gift or a warning. The air smelled of brine and rotting wood, the kind of smell that clung to your skin long after you’d left. She flipped open the first page, and the ink bled through the paper, words scrawled in a hand she didn’t recognize. *”The light never dies. It waits.”*
Jace found her hunched over the journal on the beach at dawn, her knees pulled to her chest, the pages splayed like a prayer. He crouched beside her, his boots sinking into the sand. “You’re not still chasing that, are you?” His voice was low, edged with something she couldn’t name.
She didn’t look up. “This isn’t some stupid myth, Jace. My dad’s out there somewhere.”
He exhaled, a sharp sound. “You think he’s in the lighthouse? That thing’s been abandoned for thirty years.”
“Then why’d he go there?”
He didn’t answer. He never did.
The lighthouse stood at the edge of the world, its stone walls bleached by wind and time. Lila had stared at it for years from the shore, wondering what secrets it held. Now, with the journal in her backpack and Jace trailing behind like a shadow, she was close enough to feel its weight. The air grew colder as they approached, the sea whispering against the rocks.
“You sure about this?” Jace asked, his voice barely audible over the wind.
She nodded, though doubt gnawed at her ribs. The journal had led her here—its cryptic entries, its strange symbols. She didn’t know what she’d find, but she couldn’t turn back.
The door groaned as she pushed it open, the scent of mildew and rust flooding out. Inside, the spiral staircase climbed into darkness. Lila pulled a flashlight from her bag, its beam cutting through the gloom. Jace followed, his steps cautious, his eyes scanning the walls.
“This place is a tomb,” he muttered.
“Maybe that’s the point,” she said.
They climbed, the steps uneven beneath their feet. At the top, a single window framed the horizon, the sea stretching endless beyond it. Lila’s breath caught. The journal had described this view—*”the light never dies, it waits.”* But there was no light here, just the pale gray of dawn.
Jace ran a hand over the rusted railing. “What are we looking for?”
She didn’t know. The journal’s final entry was a single line: *”The truth is in the silence.”*
A sound echoed through the tower—a hollow thud, like something had fallen. Lila froze. “Did you hear that?”
Jace nodded, his face pale. “We should go.”
But the sound came again, closer this time. A whisper, almost. Lila turned, her flashlight trembling in her hand. The shadows in the corner of the room shifted.
“Who’s there?” she called, her voice steady despite the fear coiling in her chest.
No answer. Just the sound of wind through the cracks.
Jace grabbed her arm. “We’re leaving.”
She pulled free, heart pounding. “Not yet.”
The whisper returned, clearer now. *”You found me.”*
Lila’s knees nearly gave out. The voice was familiar, though she couldn’t place it. It wasn’t her father’s. It was older, colder.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
The shadows thickened, and the flashlight flickered. Then, a figure emerged—a woman in a tattered coat, her face obscured by a hood. “You shouldn’t have come,” the woman said.
Jace stepped in front of Lila. “Stay back.”
The woman tilted her head. “You don’t understand. The light is gone, but the silence remains.”
Lila’s mind raced. The journal, the lighthouse, the voice—everything pointed to something she couldn’t yet grasp. “What happened here?”
The woman’s gaze locked onto hers. “They tried to silence it. But it never dies.”
A crash echoed below them. The door slammed open. Lila turned, her pulse roaring. A man stood in the doorway, his face shadowed, his hand gripping a rusted pipe. “Get out,” he barked. “Now.”
Jace grabbed Lila’s wrist. “We’re going.”
But the man moved faster. He lunged, and Jace stumbled back. Lila scrambled toward the window, her mind screaming for her to run. The woman’s voice was a whisper in her ear. “The light is gone, but the silence remains.”
Then, chaos. The man’s pipe swung, Jace ducked, and Lila dove for the stairs. The journal slipped from her bag, landing open on the floor. The final entry stared back at her: *”The truth is in the silence.”*
She didn’t look back. The lighthouse was behind her, its secrets buried in the dark. But the silence lingered, a promise she couldn’t ignore.
