Chapter 2

By one in the morning, the tide had reached the lighthouse's second floor.

The rusted iron door had been forced open by the waves, and seawater rushed into the stairwell carrying rocks and debris with it.

I pushed an abandoned wooden table across the bottom of the stairs. It couldn't stop the water, but for a while, it could temporarily block the debris being swept in by the waves.

When I was done, I leaned against the wall and slowly sat down.

My chest was starting to hurt again. After I stopped taking medication at sixteen, I'd passed out many times.

A teacher at the orphanage, Teresa Bennett, had secretly taken me to get checked out.

The doctor said there was something wrong with my heart and that I needed to stay on medication long-term. Otherwise, the next time my condition flared up, I might never wake up.

I refused treatment because the doctor before him had told me never to take medicine again.

People later told me that the doctor had no right to make that decision for me, but once someone's words got into my head, they became like a nail I couldn't pull out. Unless the person who said them took the words back, I didn't know whether I was allowed to disobey.

Lightning split the night sky.

In the faint flash, I saw a faded emergency diagram hanging on the wall. Red signal flares were stored on the top floor of the lighthouse. If I fired one, the nearby Coast Guard station would send someone to rescue me.

I braced myself against the wall and stood, then started up the stairs.

I'd just reached the landing when the entire lighthouse suddenly lurched.

A loose metal panel fell from above and slammed into my right leg, and I tumbled down the steps. A sharp edge tore through my skin, and blood quickly soaked through my skirt.

Gripping the railing, I tried twice to stand. I couldn't.

In the end, I could only drag my injured leg behind me and crawl up one step at a time.

The flares were locked inside a glass cabinet on the top floor.

Across the door, large red words read: "FOR EMERGENCY USE."

I stared at them for a long time. I didn't break the glass.

I didn't really want to live anyway. After Grandma Jo died, there was nothing left in this world I cared about.

When my biological parents found me, I thought I'd finally have a family again. So whatever they told me to do, I did.

Mom told me not to take Gemma's room, so I moved into the damp storage room downstairs.

Dad told me not to publicly reveal that I was their biological daughter, so I told reporters I was only a distant relative of the Foster family.

Nolan told me Adrian Maxwell only loved Gemma and warned me not to get any ideas. So in front of the Maxwells, I voluntarily called off the engagement that had originally been arranged for me.

But no matter how much I gave up, they still didn't like me.

Now, Nolan had finally told me outright to die out here. It seemed I didn't have to keep trying so hard to make them like me anymore.

A ship's horn suddenly sounded in the distance.

At the same time, the lighthouse's old emergency phone began to ring. The shrill sound echoed endlessly through the empty stairwell.

I hesitated, then picked up the receiver. A strange man's voice came through the static.

"This is South Bay Coast Guard Station. Our monitoring system shows that the abandoned lighthouse is flooding. Is anyone inside?"

I opened my mouth.

Before I could answer, he continued urgently, "If anyone is trapped, tell us immediately how many people there are and whether anyone is injured. We'll launch a rescue right away."

I tightened my grip on the receiver.

But Nolan's voice echoed in my ears again. "Don't call home again. Even if you die out there, don't bother us."

I didn't know whether answering the Coast Guard counted as asking for help, and I didn't know whether being rescued and going back would mean disobeying his order never to return.

So I said nothing. I put the receiver back.

The phone rang again almost immediately.

Once.

Twice.

After the third call went unanswered, the emergency system began contacting the registered owner of the vehicle in the restricted coastal area.

A connection tone sounded over the wall speaker.

A moment later, Nolan's impatient voice came through. "Who is this?"

The Coast Guard officer asked, "Mr. Foster, a vehicle registered to the Fosters entered a restricted coastal area. Do you know whether the driver is safe?"

"My sister took the car."

At the sound of his voice, I instinctively moved closer to the speaker.

The officer continued, "Is there any chance she entered the South Bay lighthouse?"

Nolan paused. "Maybe."

My heart suddenly beat faster. So he knew I was here.

The officer immediately said, "Please provide her contact information. We need to determine whether to launch a rescue."

"Don't bother." Nolan gave a cold laugh. "She's throwing a tantrum. She drove off on purpose because she wanted attention. She grew up by the ocean. She knows the tides better than anyone. Nothing's going to happen to her."

I blinked, confused. I'd never lived by the ocean. My foster mother lived in a small inland town. I didn't even know how to swim.

The officer tried to confirm once more, but Nolan cut him off impatiently, "If she's really at the lighthouse, she can come back herself. Don't bother us again over something this minor."

The call disconnected, and the speaker fell silent again.

After a long time, the ship's horn in the distance faded away too.

I sat against the wall and looked down at my blood-soaked skirt.

So he knew I might be trapped here, and he'd still refused to let them help me. That must have been an order too.

I wrapped my arms around my knees and quietly waited for the water to rise.

The flares in the glass cabinet were less than six feet away. All I had to do was break the glass, and I could live.

But I didn't move.