Dawn came slowly.
Gray light filtered through the car windows, casting everything in shades of silver and shadow. I hadn't slept. Neither had Ava. We sat side by side, holding hands, watching the city wake up.
"We need a plan," Ava said finally.
"I know."
"Okay. So what's the plan?"
I thought about it. The journal. The necklace. The weapon my mother had hidden.
"The clues," I said. "My mother said she left clues. Things only I would understand."
"What kind of clues?"
"I don't know yet. But I think..." I pulled out the journal. Flipped through the pages. Stopped at a passage I'd skimmed over before.
"The weapon is where we used to go. Where the water meets the sky. Where the light hides in the dark."
"Where the water meets the sky," Ava repeated. "The ocean?"
"No. There's no ocean here." I read the passage again. "Where the water meets the sky. Where the light hides in the dark."
Ava frowned. "A lighthouse?"
My heart skipped. "The old lighthouse. At the edge of the city. Mom used to take me there when I was little. We'd watch the boats. She said it was her favorite place."
"That's it. That has to be it."
I nodded slowly. "We need to go. Today. Before Sarah figures out what we're doing."
"Doesn't she already know?"
"Probably. But we don't have a choice."
We stopped at a diner for breakfast.
Neither of us ate much. I pushed eggs around my plate while Ava nursed a cup of coffee. The waitress looked at us strangely—two women, exhausted, wearing yesterday's clothes, jumping at every sound.
"You okay, hon?" she asked.
"Fine," I said. "Just tired."
She didn't believe me. But she didn't push.
My phone buzzed.
"Going somewhere, Leah?"
I didn't answer.
"The lighthouse is a dead end. Your mother hid nothing there. She was too smart for that."
Still didn't answer.
"But go ahead. Waste your time. I'll be watching."
I turned off the phone.
"Sarah?" Ava asked.
"Sarah."
"What did she say?"
"Nothing important."
Ava looked at me like she didn't believe me. But she didn't push.
The lighthouse was abandoned.
Had been for years, according to Gabriel. The city had tried to restore it once, but the funding had dried up, and now it sat at the edge of the harbor, crumbling into the sea.
We parked at the base of the hill and walked the rest of the way.
The wind was strong. Salt spray stung my face. Gulls circled overhead, screaming at each other, fighting over scraps.
"This place is creepy," Ava said.
"Mom loved it."
"She had strange taste."
I smiled. It felt strange to smile. Like my face had forgotten how.
The door to the lighthouse was padlocked. Rusted. Old. I pulled at it—nothing. The metal groaned but didn't give.
"Stand back," Ava said.
She picked up a rock and smashed the lock.
It broke on the third hit.
"Nice," I said.
"I've been practicing."
We stepped inside.
The air was cold. Damp. The staircase spiraled upward, iron steps creaking under our weight. I started climbing. Ava followed.
Up. Up. Up.
The light grew brighter as we climbed. Windows cut into the stone, letting in slivers of gray sky.
At the top, we found the lantern room.
Empty. Dusty. The light itself was long gone, leaving only a glass cage and a view of the harbor.
"Where do we look?" Ava asked.
I walked to the center of the room. Turned in a slow circle.
My mother had been here. I could feel her. In the dust. In the silence. In the way the light filtered through the glass.
"Where the water meets the sky. Where the light hides in the dark."
"Not the lantern," I murmured. "The light. She said the light hides in the dark."
I looked down.
The floor was stone. Old. Cracked. But one of the stones looked different. Newer. Like it had been replaced.
I knelt. Ran my fingers over the edges.
"Ava. Help me."
Together, we pried the stone loose.
Beneath it was a box. Wooden. Carved with the symbol—my mother's symbol, the real one, the one that meant protection.
I lifted it out.
The wood was warm. Alive, almost. Like it had been waiting for me.
"Open it," Ava whispered.
I did.
Inside, wrapped in velvet, was a knife.
Not like the murder weapon. This one was old. Ancient. The blade was dark, almost black, etched with symbols I didn't recognize. The handle was bone—human bone, I realized with a shudder—and set into the pommel was a stone that glowed faintly in the dim light.
"The weapon," I breathed.
"Does it work?"
"I don't know."
I picked it up.
The moment my skin touched the bone, the world went white.
The vision was different this time.
Not a memory of death. A memory of life.
My mother, younger than I'd ever seen her. Standing in this same room, holding this same knife. Sarah was with her—both of them, together, before everything went wrong.
"This is the only thing that can stop it," my mother said.
"Or the only thing that can control it," Sarah replied.
"Don't."
"Why not? Think of what we could do. The power—"
"The power would destroy you, Sarah. It would destroy everything."
Sarah smiled. "Maybe that's the point."
The vision ended.
I was on the floor. The knife was still in my hand. Ava was kneeling beside me, calling my name.
"I'm okay," I said.
"You're not okay. You were out for ten minutes."
Ten minutes. The longest yet.
"What did you see?" Ava asked.
I told her.
She was quiet for a long time.
"Your mother tried to stop Sarah," she said finally. "And Sarah chose the Faceless One instead."
"Yes."
"This knife. It's not just a weapon. It's a choice."
"Yes."
Ava looked at the blade. At the glowing stone. At my face.
"What are you going to do?"
I wrapped the knife back in the velvet. Placed it in the box. Stood up.
"First, we get out of here. Then we figure out how to use it."
We were halfway down the spiral staircase when I heard it.
Footsteps.
Above us.
Coming down.
"Run," I said.
We ran.
The stairs were narrow, slippery with moisture. I could hear Ava behind me, her breathing ragged, her feet pounding on the iron.
The footsteps behind us were faster.
We burst through the door at the bottom. The parking lot was empty. The car was—
The tires were slashed.
All four of them.
"No." Ava grabbed my arm. "Leah, no."
The footsteps reached the bottom of the stairs.
We turned.
Sarah stepped out of the lighthouse.
She was wearing my mother's face. My mother's clothes. My mother's smile.
"Hello, Leah," she said. "Going somewhere?"
I pushed Ava behind me. Held up the box.
"Stay back."
Sarah laughed. It was my mother's laugh. That was the worst part. Hearing her voice, her joy, twisted into something cruel.
"You think that little knife can stop me?"
"I think it can kill you."
"You don't even know how to use it." Sarah took a step closer. "Your mother didn't either. That's why she died."
"You killed her."
"Yes." No hesitation. No remorse. Just a fact, stated plainly. "I killed her. And I'll kill you. And then I'll kill your sister. And then I'll wear your faces and live your lives and no one will ever know the difference."
"You're insane."
"Maybe. But I'm also immortal." Sarah smiled. "The Faceless One promised me eternity. And all I had to do was sacrifice my family."
"You sacrificed nothing."
"Neither will you."
She lunged.
I swung the box.
It connected with her face—her mother's face—and she staggered back, laughing.
"That all you got?"
Ava grabbed my arm. "Leah. The knife."
I opened the box. Pulled out the knife.
Sarah's eyes widened.
"You don't have the courage," she said.
"Try me."
I raised the blade.
And Sarah disappeared.
Just like before. One moment she was there. The next, she was gone.
Leaving only the echo of her laughter.
We walked to the nearest gas station.
It took two hours. Ava didn't speak. Neither did I.
At the gas station, we called a tow truck. The man who arrived looked at our slashed tires and shook his head.
"You girls are lucky to be alive," he said.
"Tell me about it," Ava muttered.
He drove us back to the city. Dropped us at a hotel. We checked in under fake names, paid in cash, and collapsed on the bed.
"I can't do this anymore," Ava whispered.
"You can."
"I can't, Leah. I'm not like you. I don't have powers. I can't see memories or fight monsters or whatever we're supposed to do next."
"You don't have to fight. You just have to stay alive."
"That's not living." She turned to face me. Her eyes were red. "Mom died. Sarah is crazy. And you're... you're disappearing. Every time you touch something, every time you see a memory, you're gone a little longer. What happens when you don't come back?"
I didn't have an answer.
"Promise me," Ava said. "Promise me you won't use that knife unless you absolutely have to."
"I can't promise that."
"Leah—"
"I can't." I took her hand. "But I promise I'll fight. I'll fight for you. For Mom. For everyone Sarah has hurt."
Ava closed her eyes.
"That's not good enough."
"It's all I have."
The phone rang at 3 AM.
Not my cell. The hotel phone. The one no one knew the number for.
I picked it up.
"Leah." Ethan's voice. Strained. Desperate. "They're coming for me."
"What? Who?"
"The guards. The other inmates. Everyone. Sarah got to them. She's inside the prison, Leah. She's wearing my lawyer's face. She's going to kill me."
"Ethan, listen to me. You need to hide. Find somewhere safe—"
"There's nowhere safe." His voice cracked. "She's everywhere. She's everyone. I don't know who to trust anymore."
"Trust no one. Not until I get there."
"Hurry."
The line went dead.
I looked at Ava.
She was already putting on her shoes.
TO BE CONTINUED...