Gemotions

The wind howled outside the lighthouse, mimicking the growing unease within Clara. She ran her fingers across the aged maps spread out before her, each line and contour painstakingly etched. Finding the hidden treasure. The culmination of her family legacy.

A stranger arrived. A man. He held a rolled parchment, and his eyes, when he finally looked up, glinted with a knowing light.

“You wouldn’t happen to be searching for…” he began, and I already knew the answer. A slow, chilling awareness crept over me, my hands went cold. The wind howled a louder, colder song.