To Lila, the lighthouse was the most mysterious place in the world. She was eight years old and as curious as a cat, and to her, the lighthouse seemed like a place where secrets lived. She would sit on the beach for hours, watching its light sweep across the sea, illuminating the waves in a gentle, rhythmic pulse. Every night, the beam of light stretched out into the darkness, reaching farther than her eyes could see, as if it were looking for something-or perhaps, someone.
It was said that the lighthouse had a keeper, but no one in the village had seen him for as long as anyone could remember. "The Light Keeper doesn't need anyone," the villagers would say with a shrug, as if that explained everything. "He's part of the light. He comes and goes like the tide."
But Lila wasn't satisfied with those answers. She wanted to know why the Light Keeper stayed hidden, and if he was even real. Her grandmother, who was the best storyteller in the village, had told her that the Light Keeper wasn't an ordinary person at all but a magical being who kept the light alive with powers beyond anything Lila could imagine.
"It's a very special light," her grandmother had told her once, eyes twinkling. "It's not just a lantern. It's made of stardust and dreams, and it keeps watch over more than just the ships at sea. It protects us all from the shadows that come with the fog."
Lila had asked about the fog that night, too. "What's so special about fog?"
"Oh, it's not the fog itself that's special, dear. It's what it hides." Her grandmother's voice dropped to a whisper. "There are things in the mist that we can't always see, things that come when we're not looking."
Those words had sent a delightful shiver down Lila's spine, and from that night on, she had longed to see the Light Keeper's magic with her own eyes. She imagined that he might be a giant or a wizard with a beard as long as the lighthouse itself. Or perhaps he was a spirit, floating through the night, unseen by ordinary eyes.
One evening, as the sun dipped low over the ocean, painting the sky in fiery oranges and purples, Lila decided that tonight was the night. She would sneak up to the lighthouse and find out once and for all if the Light Keeper was real. She waited until her parents' voices faded downstairs, and then, quietly as a shadow, she slipped out her window.
