Chapter 3: The Lighthouse at Edgeport**
Morning broke in pale shades of slate over the rocky coast of Maine. Rain beat rhythmically against the windshield of Dominic’s black SUV as it wound down narrow coastal lanes lined with weathered saltbox houses.
Edgeport was a ghost of a harbor town, stark and unforgiving. Locals eyed his foreign car with cold suspicion. Dominic stepped out into the biting Atlantic wind, pulling his collar high.
At a weathered general store, he showed Elena's picture to an elderly clerk behind the counter. The old man took his time, chewing thoughtfully before looking up at Dominic's tailored coat.
"She came through yesterday," the man said raspy. "Looked exhausted, like she hadn't slept in a week. Bought warm blankets, tea, and bus fare heading north toward the old coastal clinics."
"Did she say where she was staying?" Dominic asked, his voice cracking with desperation.
May you like
"Didn't say. But a girl running that scared usually hides where no one looks."
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