Chapter 1

The salt air hit me the moment I pushed open the heavy, rusted iron gate, carrying the distinct, briny scent of the Atlantic mixed with the sharp, metallic tang of old paint and damp stone. It was a smell I hadn’t encountered in years, not since I was a child running barefoot on the gravel paths while my father, then just *Dad* and not yet the authority figure who had begun to colonize my dreams, watched from the porch. The sun was dipping below the horizon, bleeding shades of violent orange and bruised purple across the sky, casting long, elongated shadows that stretched like grasping fingers toward the base of the lighthouse. I had agreed to this trip with a vague sense of duty, expecting a casual dinner, a few glasses of wine, and a polite exchange of updates about my career and his health. I hadn’t expected the silence. I hadn’t expected the way the isolation felt less like a vacation and more like a cage being locked from the outside. The path to the keeper’s quarters was uneven, paved with cobblestones worn smooth by decades of wind and rain. My heels clicked against the stone, a rhythmic counterpoint