Chapter 6: Cracks in the Foundation

Nora woke to the sound of rain pelting the cottage roof, a steady drum that matched the ache in her skull. She'd barely slept, Elias's words looping in her head: It's screwing with me. He had no right to say that—not when he was the one with a fiancée, a life that didn't include her. But the way he'd looked at her, close enough to touch, had cracked something open she'd bolted shut years ago.

She dragged herself to the kitchen, coffee pot hissing as she rifled through Ruth's tin box again. The photo of her and Elias still sat on the table, accusing her. She shoved it aside, pulling out another letter. This one wasn't from Ruth—it was her dad's handwriting, blocky and uneven, dated a month before she'd left Cutler Cove.

Nora, it started. I'm sorry for ruining everything. The bank's taking the house. Don't tell your mom yet—she's got enough. Stay with Elias if you need to. He's a good kid. The rest blurred—something about loans, a fishing boat repossessed, a fight with a guy named Cal who'd broken his nose over unpaid debts. She'd known it was bad back then, but not this bad. Not enough to make her run.

She'd never told Elias. He'd thought she'd bailed because of him—some teenage fight, some dumb misunderstanding. But it was her dad's shame, the whispers that followed her family, the fear she'd drag Elias down too. So she'd left, cut him off, let him hate her. Better that than the truth.

The rain eased as she stuffed the letter back in the tin, her hands shaky. She couldn't keep dodging this. If she was going to save the lighthouse, she had to face him—work with him, not against him. But the secret sat like a stone in her gut, and she didn't know how to lift it.

Her phone buzzed—Meg, texting about a meeting at the library. Found more on the lighthouse. Noon? Nora typed back a quick Yes, grateful for the distraction. She grabbed her coat and headed out, the air thick with salt and mud.

The library was a squat building by the harbor, its shelves sagging with old books and fishing logs. Meg was already there, hunched over a table piled with papers, her glasses slipping down her nose. "Morning," she said, waving Nora over. "Look at this."

She slid over a ledger, yellowed and brittle, from 1890. Lighthouse repairs, it read, listing costs for stone, mortar, a new lens. "They fixed it back then," Meg said, tapping the page. "After a storm cracked the base. Sound familiar?"

Nora's pulse quickened. "So it's been done before. That's precedent."

"Exactly." Meg grinned. "And here's the kicker—town pitched in. Fundraisers, donations. We could do that again."

Nora nodded, scribbling notes. "I'll add it to the proposal. Elias said the cracks now are deep, but if we—"

"Elias?" Meg cut in, eyebrow arched. "You two are cozy."

"No," Nora said, too fast. "We're just… working on it."

Meg leaned back, smirking. "Sure. But he's got a stake in this too, you know. More than just a paycheck."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"He grew up here, same as you. That lighthouse—it's his too. And you… well, he's not over you, Nora. Anyone can see that."

Nora's face heated. "He's engaged."

"Doesn't mean his heart's checked out." Meg shrugged. "Just saying—he deserves to know why you left. Might change things."

She wanted to argue, but the words stuck. Meg was right—Elias had been in the dark too long. But telling him meant ripping open a wound she'd barely stitched shut herself. "I'll think about it," she muttered, gathering her notes. "Thanks for this."

"Anytime," Meg said, but her eyes lingered, like she knew Nora was dodging more than just the rain.

Back at the cottage, she spread the ledger pages out, typing up a draft for the council. Her phone stayed silent—no word from Elias about the lighthouse inspection. She almost texted him, but what would she say? Hey, found proof we can save it. Also, I ran because my dad was a mess. Coffee? She snorted, deleting the half-typed message.

The secret wasn't hers alone anymore. If they were going to do this—really do it—he'd find out eventually. And she'd rather he heard it from her than the town's rumor mill. She just didn't know how to start.