The Vanishing of Emily Hartman

- CHAPTER 6 - The Lighthouse

The next morning, Pip and Wednesday decided to revisit the lighthouse near the cliffs, even though it had already been searched by the police. Something about the proximity to the scene of Emily's disappearance nagged at Pip. "Maybe they missed something," she had said earlier that morning. Wednesday had agreed without hesitation—both of them knew that details could easily slip through the cracks in an investigation like this.

The sky was clear, a rare cloudless blue stretching across the horizon as the sun's rays glinted off the rocky cliffs. The cool breeze off the ocean smelled fresh and clean, a stark contrast to the heaviness of the investigation. But beneath that deceptive calm, there was a darkness still lurking, waiting to be uncovered.

Pip parked the car at the edge of a small dirt lot, the cliffs looming ahead of them, jagged and foreboding. The sound of waves crashing below provided a constant reminder of how dangerous this place could be, despite the beautiful weather.

As they walked toward the cliffs, Pip shielded her eyes from the sun, scanning the area. "It's hard to believe someone could just vanish here," she muttered, more to herself than to Wednesday.

"Appearances are deceiving," Wednesday replied, her voice even as she gazed out at the drop-off where Emily had supposedly disappeared. "A place like this can hide a lot more than it shows."

Pip stopped at the edge, looking down at the crashing waves far below. "I can see how someone could fall, but something about this whole thing feels... off. Like there's more to it than just an accident."

Wednesday didn't respond immediately. Her dark eyes had shifted, locking onto the weathered, abandoned lighthouse that stood a short distance from the cliff's edge. It was an old structure, paint peeling, the windows clouded with dust and grime. The place looked like it had been forgotten by time, much like the truth they were searching for.

They approached the lighthouse cautiously, its tall, crumbling form looming over them like a sentinel from the past. Pip tried the door, surprised when it creaked open easily. The inside was dim and musty, the air thick with dust. They stepped in slowly, taking in the worn wooden steps leading up to the tower and the long-forgotten equipment scattered around.

But it wasn't the old machinery or the decay that caught Pip's eye. It was the pile of blankets in one corner, next to a small stack of food wrappers. "Wednesday," she called softly, pointing toward it. "Someone's been here."

Wednesday moved forward, kneeling down next to the makeshift bed. She picked up a dark jacket, worn but clearly not abandoned. "This looks like it could belong to Emily."

Pip frowned, stepping closer and examining it more carefully. "Claire mentioned that Emily always wore a jacket with patches on the sleeves. This could be hers."

Wednesday traced her finger over the worn patches, now dirty from days of use. "It's definitely recent. Whoever was here left in a hurry."

They both exchanged a glance before continuing to search the room. Pip's eyes landed on a small, worn journal half-hidden beneath the pile of blankets. She reached for it, flipping it open carefully. The pages were filled with rushed, scrawled writing, some parts barely legible, others scratched out entirely. But what she could make out sent a chill down her spine.

"It's Emily's journal," Pip said, her voice hushed. "Look at this."

Wednesday moved closer as Pip read aloud: "'They know what they did. I can't let them get away with it. If the world knew what really happened...'" Pip trailed off, flipping through the pages, her mind racing. "She was planning something. She was going to expose them."

Wednesday's gaze darkened. "Emily wasn't running from something—she was trying to make things right. She must have uncovered enough about Adam to push them, and now she's missing."