Chapter 11 - The Lighthouse
We reached Charleston two days later.
Thomas refused to explain why Rachel had chosen the city.
He only said,
“She knew the coast.”
The lighthouse stood beyond a quiet stretch of marshland.
Wind pushed against the car.
The sky was gray.
I walked beside Thomas.
Dad followed several steps behind.
For the first time, he looked like an old man.
Not my father.
Not the man who used to carry me on his shoulders.
Just a stranger who had spent twelve years carrying a secret.
The lighthouse door was unlocked.
Inside was an old wooden table.
A photograph sat on it.
Rachel.
She was older than I remembered.
But it was her.
My mother.
I reached for the photograph.
A voice came from behind us.
“Don't.”
I froze.
Thomas turned.
A woman stood in the doorway.
Dark coat.
Brown hair.
Tired eyes.
My heart stopped.
“Mom?”
She looked at me.
Tears filled her eyes.
She didn't move.
Neither did I.
Then she whispered,
“You got so big.”
I couldn't speak.
Thomas stepped forward.
“Rachel.”
She looked at him.
“Dad.”
Thomas broke.
He walked toward her.
She hugged him.
I watched them.
Then Rachel looked at me.
“I wanted to come home.”
“Then why didn't you?”
She looked toward my father.
He lowered his head.
Rachel's eyes filled with pain.
“Because every time I tried, someone disappeared.”
“What?”
“People who helped me.”
She looked at Thomas.
“Doctors.”
“Lawyers.”
“Friends.”
“Anyone who got close.”
Thomas whispered,
“Victor?”
Rachel nodded.
“But Victor is gone.”
Rachel shook her head.
“No.”
Thomas stared.
“He isn't.”
She looked at me.
“Victor Hale died three years ago.”
My stomach dropped.
“Then who is after us?”
Rachel didn't answer.
She looked at Dad.
He couldn't meet her eyes.
Then she said,
“Your father knows.”
Dad finally spoke.
“I thought you were dead.”
Rachel smiled sadly.
“You knew better.”
“I saw your body.”
“No.”
Dad's face drained.
“You saw someone else's.”
Silence.
Rachel walked toward me.
She reached for my hand.
“I am sorry.”
I started crying.
“I thought you left me.”
“I never left you.”
“Why didn't you come back?”
She looked toward Thomas.
“Because I was protecting you.”
“From who?”
Rachel squeezed my hand.
“From the man who took Victor's place.”
Thomas frowned.
“Who?”
Rachel looked at him.
Then she said,
May you like
“You.”
Thomas froze.
