Chapter 11
The coastal path was treacherous, slick with mud and lashed by fierce winds blowing in off the dark, churning sea. Claire held tightly to Lily’s small hand, while David walked slightly ahead, sweeping the beam of the heavy-duty flashlight across the rocky terrain to illuminate the washed-out trail. The rain poured down in sheets, soaking through their clothes and chilling them to the bone, but Lily walked with a surprising resilience, never once complaining, keeping her other arm firmly wrapped around the doll with the purple bow. Every flash of lightning illuminated the jagged silhouette of the abandoned lighthouse looming ahead against the bruised night sky like a monolith of forgotten secrets. As they reached the rusted iron gate surrounding the lighthouse property, David stopped abruptly, shining his flashlight toward a dark sedan parked haphazardly near the tower entrance. The doors were wide open, and the interior was empty, confirming their worst fears: someone else was already inside the ruin, searching for the underground vault. Claire felt adrenaline surge through her veins, overriding her fatigue and fear as she pulled Lily closer to her side. David drew a deep breath, jaw clenched, and signaled for them to move silently toward the side entrance of the tower, avoiding the main door where shadows flickered against the cracked stone walls. They slipped inside through a rotting wooden service hatch, plunging into the damp, echoing interior of the lighthouse where the sound of the storm was muffled by thick masonry, replaced by the ominous drip of water and the distant echo of footsteps moving on the stone stairs below.
