PROLOGUE
The sea will devour me,if given the chance. If not the waves and currents, or sharp-toothed animals, then the ghosts and monsters that haunt its depths. And if not those, if I am truly unlucky, the most fearsome creatures of all will be my demise: the sirens. They will sing a sweet requiem as they pull me deep below the waves.
My skin is gooseflesh the instant I step into the cold, dusky evening. The moon is rising from an inky sea. Fog and salt spray obscure the glowing orb, turning detail into hazy, curling strands of light.
Angry waves batter the rocks of the little island that I once thought of as my home. I’ve come to realize it has always been my prison. The ocean swells and churns, lapping at the land with its frothing tongues. Waiting for the moment it can consume all life that boldly stands against the tides.
I move quickly and confidently over the rocks. I’ve foraged in every tide pool for years. I’ve walked this path many, many times as I paced my cage. But, this time, as I head toward the back of the lighthouse, the rowboat is waiting for me.
Tonight, I am the one to leave.
The small vessel is old but sturdy. It’s our only lifeline to the shore so Charles keeps it well maintained. I have only ever been in it once—when he brought me here two years ago.
Reaching out with one hand, I lightly touch the wood with quivering fingertips. Instantly, I look behind me. As if he’d somehowknowI’ve broken his rules and will materialize out of nowhere. But the beach is empty and my gaze drifts up the dreary lighthouse. A few tiny, dark windows speckle its sides. I’m drawn to the one that is—wasour bedroom.
After our argument at dinner, Charles will know where I’ve gone. But he won’t be able to chase me. He’d have to signal another boat. Which is rare this close to the Gray Passage, but he will, eventually. He’ll survive and I’ll be long gone, past the horizon and far from his reach. I’ll keep moving. Sort out affairs. I’ll find a way forward without him. I know I can.
I have to.
I grip the basket I’m holding with white knuckles. The provisions in it clank together softly. Meager morsels I’ve managed to squirrel away as I’ve been secretly planning my escape—just enough to last for the three weeks it’ll take me to get to my parents and sister, if I’m mindful in my consumption. The thought of confronting my family freezes me. What will I tell them? What will they think of me after what I’ve done—am doing? Should I even go to them?
I have to keep moving if I’m to make my escape tonight. But I’m stuck, staring up at the lighthouse and its slowly revolving beacon. Imagining what I might say to my family becomes replaying conversations with him.
I would’ve thrown myself into the sea by now, if I didn’t have you, Lizzie. You are my lighthouse point. My comfort in the night, knowing you are always here to stand against the sirens. You were made for this responsibility. I could never let you leave.I hear Charles’s words despite my cotton-packed ears. They rattle around my chest until my bones ache. Until I draw a shuddering breath and steel my resolve.
I can’t back down now. I’ve made my choice. I gave him two years. I tried, I begged, I wept, I talked until my hands were exhausted from forming the words, and, above all, I hoped that our relationship would get better on its own. But he kept leaving the island…going off on the adventures he promised me and leaving me here. Alone. Yet I persevered.
But then…
Thentwo months ago happened.
The dust of his study was so thick it coated my fingers as I worked. Sweat on my neck, not from exertion, but fear.Never go into my study, Lizzie. Charles had always made the rules clear. But he’d been so displeased by the dinner I’d made the night before he’d left. A little tidy couldn’t hurt…or so I’d thought.
The stash of letters was in the lockbox by his chair. He’d left the key in the slot. I’d never known the itch of such curiosity before. One turn, and the whole world fell out from underneath me as I retrieved them one by one, traveling through time as I read dates and records of events that I should have known about years ago from a family that he swore had abandoned me. Every last one was addressed to me, and me alone. Rather than burning the evidence of his treachery, he kept it like some sick trophy.
I don’t care if I’m an oath breaker. A contract ripper. A woman of loose morals. Or whatever else might be said about me. If the cost of my happiness is the world’s judgment, then it is a price I’ll pay.
It’s amazing how easily the knots holding the boat untie. The way Charles spoke made it sound like my “delicate little fingers” couldn’t possibly undo them. It’s like finding out that I held the key to my cage all along.
I settle the basket in the bow of the vessel and push. The boat refuses to budge. Digging in my heels, I try again. The sand slips and piles under the balls of my feet.
Move. Move!I silently beg. Charles is not a heavy sleeper and it has been almost thirty minutes since I last crept from the bed.
As if sensing my fears, a candle flickers to life in the bedroom window.
Frantic energy brought on by panic fuels me and I heave with all my might. My meager muscles strain to what feels like the breaking point.Move!If I don’t escape now, I will be trapped here forever. He will keep me like a doll in his house. Forcing me to play pretend that what I felt for him had truly been love and not naive infatuation.
There’s so much more ahead of me. There must be.Thiscan’t be all there is. Tears are threatening to spill over my lids, but I keep pushing. The massive bell beneath the lighthouse tolls so loudly the island trembles. This is my chance, before Charles gets to me and while the siren’s songs are disrupted.Shove, Lizzie!
For the first time in my life, the sea might be on my side.
The tide is coming in and meets the grinding hull of the small vessel. The resistance lessens before vanishing as the boat is freed of the shore.
A new fear grips me by the throat as I stare at the dark water rising to my ankles. I’ll have to go in up to my knees to get in the rowboat. How deep is deep enough for sirens and their monsters or ghosts to claim me? How quickly can they recover after the bell? I should know this. You’d think as a lighthouse keeper’s wife I would know this by now.
But Charles’s study was always forbidden…
I glance back up over my shoulder. Charles is hanging out the window. Eyes wide and brows knitted with rage.
