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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

“Can’t, need to talk to you.” The girl’s head was down; she was on a warpath for the exit.

“What’s this all about?”

“It’s important.”

“But what’s it got to do with me?”

“You’ll see.”

As soon as they reached the lobby, Amy wrestled her hand loose and folded her arms, refusing to take another step. “Will you just tell me what’s going on?”

The girl’s sprightly expression faded; she suddenly looked nervous, skittish, her small blue eyes darting left and right and all around. When Amy asked if she was lost or needed help, the girl became agitated.

“No, I’m not lost. But you need to come with me.”

“If you’re not lost, then who are you with? Where are your parents?”

“Never mind that. There’s no time.” She tried to take Amy’s hand.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me exactly what you want.”

The girl spun her head and glanced at the hotel entrance. “Okay, but not here. Can we go upstairs?”

“Why upstairs? What’s up there?”

“Your room.”

“Are you kidding? No. We definitely cannot go up to my room. Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“No, silly, nothing like that. There’s just something I really need to tell you.”

“Go on, then.” Amy dropped her head and leaned in closer. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. Just say it.”

The girl stood on tiptoes, cupped her small hands around Amy’s ear, and, in a hushed voice, whispered: “It’s about the lighthouse.”

•••

Ryan tilted his head, straightened his collar, ran his fingers through his hair, checked his teeth, did everything he could to make himself as presentable as possible—not an easy task when the only tool available was the rearview mirror in his truck.

He turned his attention back to the hotel, sizing it up as though it were some kind of fortified stronghold. What was he going to say to Amy? And what if her dad was back—what then? And why was he this nervous?

After gathering his composure, Ryan haphazardly tucked in his shirt and decamped from his truck. He crossed the sidewalk and reached the canopied entrance of the hotel in just a dozen steps. He approached the door, gripped the handle. From his vantage point he could see through the glass and straight into the lobby. The room was busy with visitors and guests crisscrossing from one side to the other and moving up and down the stairs. And among the hustle and bustle, he spotted Amy. Except she wasn’t alone. Her head was bent down, and she appeared to be engaged in conversation with a young child. Ryan couldn’t see the child’s face, but he didn’t need to—he recognized those blonde pigtails from earlier that same day.

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