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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

“We can’t wait any longer. We’re out of time.” Her mother drew back, kissed Amy on the forehead, then nodded to the water. “You have to leave.”

“I love you, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you too! Take a big breath. Go home, sweetheart!”

Fighting back tears, Amy moved to the side of the rowboat, careful not to tip it. With every single part of her trembling, she sucked in the deepest breath she possibly could and gave her mom one last look. Then, with not a second to spare, as the last of her snow globe was swallowed up by wind and light and shining snow, she closed her eyes, slid off the edge of the boat, and disappeared beneath the waves.

43

43

Help was nowhere in sight. By the time paramedics arrived, by the time they set up with an AED, it would be too late. Kevin needed to be the one to revive Amy, right here, right now, and if he couldn’t do it then she would die.

It was all his fault. While he had been downstairs, his daughter had knocked herself out with pills and drowned in the bathtub. He thought of Helen and how distraught she would be if she were here. Amy was his responsibility and he had failed her. He had failed them both.

“Dammit, Amy! Don’t do this! I’m not letting you do this!”

Kevin could sense the presence of others in the room: the bartender, the woman who had helped lift Amy out of the tub, each of them no doubt thinking that he was wasting his time, all thinking him a fool for persisting when it had been so long already, when it was obvious that his daughter’s body didn’t hold the slightest sign of life.

But Kevin didn’t stop. It was physically and mentally impossible for him to stop. He kept up the CPR, kept counting off the beats, kept breathing air into his daughter’s mouth.

“Come back to me!” he cried. “Come back to me now!”

•••

Amy couldn’t see a thing. The surface had frozen over. Beneath her loomed an empty abyss. She had swum deeper than she thought was possible and still hadn’t found a way out. Every second was precious. Pressure was building in her body, the air in her lungs dwindling fast. How deep did she need to go? Her mother had said this would lead her home! She’d promised she’d be able to find the way!

Come back to me.

Amy stopped kicking.

A voice.

She had heard a voice.

She flipped upright and twisted around, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from.

Come back to me now . . .