letter to the lighthouse keeper

The weight of the forgotten things

Chapter 3: Echoes in the Storm

The morning after the strange discovery in the treehouse, Clara woke with a headache, her thoughts tangled between the dream and the photo she had found. Mira. The name repeated itself in her mind like a rhythm she couldn’t shake.

Clara sat at the small kitchen table, the faint hum of the kettle the only sound in the house. She stared at the chipped teacup in front of her, still gripped by the feeling that something was wrong—something had been hidden from her.

Her mother had kept secrets. That much was clear. But why had she never told Clara about Mira? Who was this girl, and why did the memory feel so distant, like it belonged to someone else?

Her fingers traced the edge of the photo she had taken from the treehouse. Mira’s smile in the picture was bright, carefree, the kind of smile only children could have before the world taught them what it meant to hold pain. Clara’s own smile in the photo was less certain—her eyes dull and guarded, as if she had already learned something painful she wasn’t ready to understand.

The phone rang, breaking her thoughts. Clara hesitated before answering.

“Clara?” Elsie’s voice came through the line, tight with something like fear. “I think you should come by the library. There’s something you need to see.”

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The library felt colder when Clara arrived. Elsie was waiting for her by the old reference desk, her face pale.

“I’ve been looking through the old records,” Elsie said quietly. “And I think I found something you might want to know about Mira.”

Clara’s heart skipped. “What do you mean? Who is she?”

Elsie sighed, glancing around as if ensuring no one was eavesdropping. “Mira was your mother’s friend. They were close, very close, when they were kids. But something happened during the storm. Something that changed everything.”

Clara’s pulse quickened. “What happened?”

Elsie swallowed. “Mira… disappeared. The night of the storm. No one ever found her. But your mother—your mother believed she was still alive. She went looking for her for years. Even after you were born.”

Clara stared at her, confused. “But… my mom never told me about any of this.”

“Your mother didn’t want to remember it, Clara. Not after what happened. She buried it.”

Clara felt a knot tightening in her stomach. “So why didn’t she tell me?”

Elsie’s eyes softened. “Because she didn’t want to lose you too.”

Clara turned away, her thoughts spinning. Mira’s name, once a whisper in her dreams, was now an undeniable presence in her life. How could she have forgotten? And why hadn’t her mother spoken of her? There were so many questions, but Elsie’s words were like a key unlocking a door she wasn’t ready to open.

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That evening, Clara stood at the edge of the cliff behind her house, looking out over the crashing waves below. The sky was thick with clouds, a storm brewing in the distance. The wind tugged at her hair, and for a moment, she closed her eyes and listened to the ocean’s endless roar.

What happened to Mira?

The question hung heavy in the air.

Suddenly, Clara felt a sharp pang of deja vu, as though she had stood here before, years ago, feeling the same wind, hearing the same waves. Her mind flashed to the journal again, the passage about sleepwalking and names Clara didn’t recognize. Her heart raced as she realized something important—something she hadn’t thought of before.

Her mother’s journal entries mentioned someone, but it wasn’t Mira. It was someone else—someone Clara had never heard of. A name that had been lost along with everything else.

“She’ll need to remember,” the journal had said.

Clara’s breath caught. She wasn’t just remembering people. She was forgetting them.

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That night, Clara sat with the journal open beside her, a pen in hand, and the photo of Mira placed carefully in front of her. She stared at the words, trying to connect the dots. She had never heard of Mira after the storm, but her mother had believed in her. She had searched for her. So why had Clara never known about it?

There had to be a reason.

As she reached for the next page of the journal, something caught her eye—hidden in the margins, scribbled in a hurried hand:

> The storm took more than just lives. It took memories. She’s blocking it out, but it will come back. The truth always does.

Clara froze. Her hand trembled as she read the words again, the weight of them settling in her chest. What truth? And who was it about?

The wind howled outside the window, as if to remind her that some truths were waiting, just beyond reach. Clara closed the journal, but she knew—this was only the beginning.

Chapter 4 Summary:

In Chapter 4, Clara delves deeper into the mystery of Mira’s disappearance and the strange gaps in her own memory. After her unsettling conversation with Elsie, Clara becomes determined to uncover the truth about what happened during the storm and why her mother never spoke about Mira. She starts visiting local places that might hold the answers—the beach where Mira had vanished, the abandoned house where her mother and Mira had spent time as children, and the town’s old records.

Clara’s search leads her to an old, forgotten cottage by the cliffs, where she finds a series of drawings and letters hidden in the attic. They are all linked to Mira, but one letter stands out—written by her mother. It describes the intense connection she had with Mira and how their bond was tested by the storm. The letter suggests that something traumatic happened that night, something that forced them to make choices they would never recover from. The words are cryptic, hinting at a secret shared between Clara’s mother and Mira that neither could bear to face.

As Clara sifts through more items, she stumbles upon an old photograph of her mother and Mira standing together by the cliffside, smiling—but there’s a shadow in the background of the photo. It looks like a figure, but the image is too blurry to make out. Clara’s heart races as she wonders if it’s connected to the dark feelings she’s been experiencing since her return.

That evening, Clara takes the journal back to her mother’s grave, feeling as if she needs to be closer to her mother’s spirit to understand what happened. She rereads the entry about the storm, noting her mother’s words about blocking out the memories. She also realizes that the journal entries started becoming erratic just before the storm, as if her mother had been overwhelmed by something terrible.

Clara’s research leads her to a local fisherman who was one of the last to see Mira before she disappeared. The fisherman, an old man with a weathered face, recalls the storm vividly. He talks about seeing two girls near the cliffs that night, but he never saw Mira leave, nor did he see her body after the storm. Clara presses him for more details, but he shuts down, muttering that some things are best left forgotten.

That night, Clara dreams of Mira again. This time, Mira isn’t smiling. She’s standing at the edge of a cliff, her back to Clara, as if waiting for her. Clara wakes up with a start, her pulse pounding. The truth is within her reach, but the closer she gets, the more elusive it seems.