Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 102280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
During lunch, she said goodbye without saying goodbye.
“Want to come over tonight?” Sarah stabbed at her salad. “We could work on that calculus homework together.”
“I can’t. I have things to finish up.”
Sarah studied her friend’s face. “You’ve been acting strange lately. More than usual, I mean. Are you sure everything’s okay?”
“I’m fine. Just stressed about senior year stuff.”
“Well, if you need to talk about anything, you know I’m here, right?”
Lily nodded, her throat closing. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”
“Okay, now you’re being weird. Since when do you get sentimental?”
“Since I realized how lucky, I am to have you in my life.”
Sarah smiled, but her eyes remained worried. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“I’m sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Another lie. By tomorrow, she’d be triumphant or dead.
Her presentation went well. She stood before her history class and spoke about the lighthouse’s construction, its role in maritime safety, and the families who had tended it over decades. She showed photographs of the exterior, architectural drawings, and shipping records from the town archives.
She spoke about keepers who had dedicated their lives to protecting ships from the dangerous rocks of Westerly Cove. She talked about the community’s relationship with the lighthouse, how it had become a symbol of safety and guidance.
She didn’t mention the tunnels. She didn’t mention the Aldriches. She didn’t mention the murders, or smuggling, or corruption that had infected her town for generations.
“In conclusion,” she said, standing beside her display, “the Hawthorne Point Lighthouse represents not just a structure, but a tradition of service and sacrifice. The people who have cared for it have done so knowing that their work protects others, sometimes at great personal cost.”
The class applauded politely. Mrs. Henderson praised her thoroughness and asked questions about her research methods. No one suspected that the girl presenting had uncovered one of the most extensive criminal operations in the state’s history.
After class, Lily packed up her presentation materials with steady hands. Tonight, she’d discover if her real research was worth the cost.
She spent the afternoon at the harbor, perched on the rocky outcropping where she and Sarah had shared so many conversations. The October wind cut cold, carrying salt and seaweed, and waves crashed against the rocks in a steady rhythm.
Here she’d first started thinking seriously about her senior project, back when she believed the lighthouse held only historical mysteries. Now she knew it held something far more dangerous—and far more important.
She pulled out her journal and wrote what might be her final entry:
Tonight I’ll enter the lighthouse knowing the Aldriches will be waiting. I’ll try to gather the evidence that will expose their crimes and bring justice for their victims. I’ll try to survive long enough to see them brought to trial.
But I’m also prepared for the possibility that I won’t make it out alive. If that happens, I hope the evidence I’ve hidden will be enough to continue the fight. I hope the letters I’ve written will help people understand why I made this choice.
My hands shake as I write this. My stomach knots with each wave that crashes below. But underneath the terror runs something else—a strange peace. I know I’m doing the right thing. I know some truths are worth dying for.
Margaret Thornton was worth dying for. Dr. Whitmore was worth dying for. All the people who might be killed in the future if this criminal operation continues—they’re worth dying for.
I’ve become someone who understands that history is made by people who choose to stand up for the truth, even when it costs them everything.
If I don’t survive tonight, I hope I’ll be remembered not as a victim, but as someone who chose to fight. I hope my death will mean something, will contribute to justice, and will help protect future generations from the darkness that has plagued this town for too long.
I love my parents. I love Sarah. I love this town enough to die for it.
Whatever happens tonight, I’m ready.
- Lily
She closed the journal and stood, brushing sand from her jeans. The lighthouse beam was beginning to show against the darkening sky, and she could see her father’s silhouette in the lamp room, checking the equipment one last time before his shift ended.
Time to go home. Time to make her final preparations.
Dinner passed in silence. Her parents seemed to sense something had shifted, but they didn’t push. Martha made Lily’s favorite meal—meatloaf with mashed potatoes and green beans. Robert talked about his day at the lighthouse, routine maintenance and equipment checks.
Lily memorized every detail. The way her father’s hands moved when he described repairing the beacon motor. The sound of her mother’s laugh when he told a story about a confused tourist. The warm light from the kitchen chandelier cast gentle shadows on their faces.
“I have homework to finish.” She stood after helping clear the table.