Chapter 9: Cold and Stone
Eveline Shore
The pounding on the lighthouse door echoed through the narrow room, rattling the lantern on the wall. Jonas’s body stiffened completely—shoulders squared, jaw tight. His arm shot out, pushing me gently but firmly behind the staircase’s shadow.
“Don’t move,” he whispered, barely shaping the words.
My heart hammered so loudly I was afraid the stranger outside could hear it.
The door shook again under a forceful fist.
“Eveline Shore?” the voice repeated.
Rough. Deep. Like gravel dragged across metal.
“This is regarding Silas Harren. We need to speak. Now.”
Jonas looked over his shoulder at me, eyes sharp and alarmed.
He knows your name.
He knows Silas’s name.
This is not a coincidence.
Jonas raised a hand, signaling me to stay silent.
He stepped toward the door slowly—silent despite the old wooden floor. When he reached it, he stopped just to the side, where the stranger couldn’t see him through the frame.
“Who are you?” Jonas called out, his voice low and steady.
A beat.
Then the stranger replied, “I’m someone who can answer her questions.”
Her.
Not Jonas.
Another bang shook the door, more impatient this time. “Open up. I saw her come inside.”
My blood turned to ice.
Jonas inhaled sharply—anger, fear, calculation. Then he leaned close to the crack in the door without opening it.
“You need to state your name first.”
“Not out here,” the man snapped. “We’re being watched.”
Jonas froze.
My chest tightened. Watched? By who?
The stranger lowered his voice, making it even harder to track his tone. “Eveline Shore is in danger. I can explain, but we have to talk privately.”
Jonas muttered under his breath, “Absolutely not.”
The man must have heard the shift of weight on the floor, because he spoke again—sharper now.
“You have no idea what you’re stepping into. Let me in.”
Jonas clenched his jaw. “Answer the question. Your name.”
Silence.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Then the man said something that made every muscle in my body turn rigid.
“Tell Eveline I knew Silas.”
My heart stopped.
Jonas’s head snapped toward me.
The stranger continued, voice smooth now—almost coaxing.
“We spoke the night he disappeared.”
My breath caught on a sob I barely held back.
The night he disappeared.
Not days before.
Not weeks before.
That night.
Jonas’s hand curled into a fist.
“You’re lying,” Jonas said flatly.
“No. I’m not.”
Something thudded softly against the door, like the man leaning forward, palms pressed against the wood.
“Let me in, Jonas.”
Jonas went absolutely still.
He hadn’t given this man his name.
I covered my mouth.
The stranger’s next words were colder, quieter—something meant for me.
“Eveline… Silas didn’t drown.”
The floor seemed to tilt under me.
Silas didn’t drown.
“Stop talking to her,” Jonas snapped.
“He’s alive,” the stranger added.
My vision blurred, a dizzy haze washing over me.
Alive.
Alive.
Alive.
Jonas’s rage flickered into panic—real, unfiltered panic. He reached back and grabbed my wrist gently but urgently, pulling me farther behind the staircase.
The door rattled.
“I can help you find him,” the stranger said. “But not if you keep hiding like this.”
Jonas hissed, “Eveline, don’t listen—”
Another loud slam shook the hinges.
“Open. The damn. Door!”
A lantern clattered to the floor and the room plunged partially into shadow.
Jonas grabbed my hand tighter. I could feel him shaking. “Eveline, we need to get upstairs. Now.”
“But—” My voice cracked. “He said Silas is alive.”
Jonas looked down at me, eyes full of something I’d never seen on his face before.
Fear.
“Then that’s exactly why we can’t let him in.”
Up the Spiral Stairs
Jonas dragged me toward the staircase just as the doorknob jerked violently. I stumbled, clutching the railing with my free hand as we spiraled upward. The metal steps creaked under our weight.
The stranger kept pounding below.
“Eveline!” he shouted. “Don’t trust him—”
Jonas growled under his breath, “Keep moving.”
My heart was a thunderstorm inside my chest.
We climbed higher. The air grew colder. The lighthouse walls seemed to whisper with every gust of wind.
Behind us, the door finally gave a terrible, splintering crack.
He was forcing it open.
A sound tore from my throat.
Jonas whipped around a corner, pulling me up the last few steps toward the lantern room.
“Hurry!”
The footsteps below changed—heavy boots on wood.
He was inside.
“Jonas!” the stranger called out, voice echoing through the hollow lighthouse shaft. “You don’t know what you’re doing!”
We reached the top, breathless.
Jonas slammed the lanternroom door shut and shoved the metal lock into place.
Another slam below.
He was coming up the stairs.
Jonas grabbed my shoulders, his voice trembling for the first time.
“Eveline… whatever happens, stay behind me.”
My chest tightened. “What does he want?”
Jonas shook his head. “I don’t know.”
But he did.
I could see it in his eyes.
He knew more than he’d told me.
Far more.
The footsteps were getting closer.
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
Boots on spiral metal.
I gripped the silver compass in my hand so tightly it cut into my skin.
The stranger’s voice rose through the spinning staircase.
“Eveline… Silas left something behind for you.”
Jonas’s breath hitched.
“Don’t listen!”
The stranger reached the last step.
His shadow darkened the gap beneath the door.
And then—
He whispered, calm and certain:
“I know where Silas is.”