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Back The Lighthouse Save as PDF
Chapters (50)
  1. PART ONE
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 8
  9. 9
  10. 10
  11. 11
  12. PART TWO
  13. 12
  14. 14
  15. 15
  16. 16
  17. 18
  18. 19
  19. 21
  20. 22
  21. 23
  22. 24
  23. 25
  24. 26
  25. 27
  26. 28
  27. 30
  28. 31
  29. 32
  30. 33
  31. 34
  32. 35
  33. 36
  34. 37
  35. 38
  36. 39
  37. 40
  38. 41
  39. 42
  40. 43
  41. PART THREE
  42. 44
  43. 45
  44. 46
  45. 47
  46. 49
  47. 50
  48. 51
  49. 52
  50. EPILOGUE

Amy could see it when she lifted her head to face him, the strain in his expression, the struggle in his eyes, the tug-of-war between this world and the next.

“Amy, listen. I need to know if you’ll do something for me. A favor.”

“Anything.”

“It’s my father,” he said, rushing his words as though every second might be their last. “When you get home, would you check on him?”

“Of course.”

“I know he won’t know who you are, and obviously he’ll think you’re crazy if you try to tell him about any of this, but all I want is for you to visit him. I want him to meet you, and I want you to make sure that he’s okay.”

“Yes, I can do that. I don’t know how much help I can be to him, or what on earth I’ll say, but I promise I’ll go.”

“Thank you.”

The sandy walls of the tornado compressed around them. The noise was deafening. But it wasn’t just the roar of the wind—in her ears, Amy could hear sounds of home: the voices of her dad, her family, all her friends—fragments of a familiar world beckoning her back. There was no time left.

“This is it!” Ryan yelled. “I can’t fight it. It’s my mother. I can hear her calling.”

They pressed their bodies against each other as the spinning vortex swept beneath them and lifted them off their feet. It was just like when Chloe had transported them here—the weightlessness, the disorientation. The world flooded with white. Amy could feel her senses leaving her.

“You’re slipping, Amy. I can’t hold on to you. I can’t hold on to this place any longer.”

“Let it happen. Don’t fight it.”

With time almost up, Amy used their remaining seconds to lean in and kiss him, and she kept her lips pressed against his while everything around her began to fade, until she could no longer see, until she lost all sense of touch, until all she could hear was a whisper of Ryan’s voice, his final words before they were pulled apart: “I love you, Amy!”

And in that last flickering moment, she told him that she loved him too.

37

37

The night before

The eve of the Lighthouse Festival was the busiest night of the season for The Lookout. Its bar had done more business than a week’s worth of happy hours combined. From those seated along the window, to the various groups gathered around tables, or those perched up at the bar, there was a palpable buzz of excitement. Hardly a minute went by without someone raising the festival in conversation or craning a neck to catch a glimpse of the preparations underway in the town square.

But not everyone was so enthused.