Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 102280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Tonight.
She called Brooks. “It’s happening. Now.”
“On my way.”
Vivienne dressed quickly and met him at the harbor fifteen minutes later. Sullivan arrived with two officers. They split up, searching the docks and boat slips.
Vivienne let her abilities guide her, following the pull of spirits toward the north end. Her pendant grew hotter with each step.
There—a woman in a navy coat. Walking alone despite the late hour, heading toward the water’s edge.
And behind her, a figure in shadow. Following. Getting closer.
“Brooks,” Vivienne called softly.
He saw them immediately. Signaled to Sullivan. They moved quickly, surrounding the area.
The figure lunged. Brooks intercepted, tackling him to the dock. Sullivan secured the man while the woman in the navy coat stumbled backward, shocked.
“You’re okay,” Vivienne told her, steadying her. “You’re safe now.”
“I—I didn’t even know he was there. I work late shift at the processing plant, always walk home this way.” The woman’s eyes filled with tears. “How did you know?”
“The spirits warned me. The ones who weren’t so lucky.” Vivienne glanced at Brooks. “They didn’t want you to join them.”
Later, after statements were taken and the would-be killer was in custody, Brooks drove Vivienne home.
“He confessed,” Brooks said. “Admitted to four previous murders going back eight years. Said he was compelled, that the harbor called to him.” He glanced at her. “Was he lying? Could the harbor actually be calling him?”
“Both. The harbor has old energy, old spirits. They can influence the living, especially those already predisposed to violence. He chose to listen. He chose to kill.” Vivienne leaned back, exhausted. “But we stopped him. The spirits’ warning saved that woman’s life.”
“You saved her life. You listened when the spirits reached out. You trusted the vision.”
They pulled up to The Mystic Cup. Dawn light was just beginning.
“Come upstairs,” Vivienne said. “I’ll make tea.”
Brooks followed her up the narrow stairs, both of them running on adrenaline.
Vivienne put the kettle on and collapsed onto her couch. Brooks sat beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched.
“This is what it’s going to be like, isn’t it?” she said. “Working cases together. Me having visions, you investigating. Both of us trusting each other.”
“Looks like it.”
“I’m still scared. About pushing too hard. About ending up like my mother.”
“I know.” Brooks turned to face her. “But you’re not alone this time. That’s the difference. You have Dawn, you have the town, you have me. We’ll make sure you don’t burn out.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I won’t let it happen. And neither will you.” He touched her face. “You’ve spent six weeks proving you can use your abilities without destroying yourself. Setting boundaries. Knowing when to rest. That’s not your mother’s path—that’s yours.”
Vivienne leaned into his touch. “I don’t want to be careful anymore. I don’t want to keep holding back because I’m afraid.”
“What do you want?”
“You. This. Us.” The words came easier than she expected. “I want to stop pretending we’re just partners when we both know it’s more than that.”
Brooks smiled. “Good. Because I’ve been wanting to kiss you for three weeks and didn’t want to push.”
“Then stop waiting.”
He did.
The kiss was gentle at first, tentative. Then it deepened, becoming certain and real.
When they finally pulled apart, Vivienne felt the connection between them stronger than ever. Not just the bond forged in crisis, but something new. Something chosen.
“So,” Brooks said. “I guess we’re doing this.”
“Apparently.” Vivienne laughed. “Dawn’s going to be insufferable. She’s been telling me for weeks that I should just kiss you already.”
“Smart woman, your cousin.”
The kettle whistled. Vivienne stood to make tea, aware of Brooks watching her. Not just attraction or partnership, but real affection.
They drank their tea as the sun rose, talking about everything and nothing. Making plans for dinner that wasn’t work-related. Discussing whether Brooks should finally move out of his rental cottage.
“I should go home and sleep,” Brooks said eventually. “Sullivan wants a full report by noon.”
“Or you could stay.” Vivienne surprised herself. “Sleep here. The couch is still made up from last time.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
He stayed.
And later, after Brooks had fallen asleep on her couch and Vivienne had retreated to her bedroom, she pulled out her mother’s journal one more time.
When your anchor comes—and he will come—let him stay. Let him see you fully. Let him ground you when the voices grow too loud. This is the secret the Hawthorne women learned too late: we are strongest not alone, but together.
Vivienne touched the words, feeling her mother’s presence.
“I’m letting him stay, Mama,” she whispered. “I’m not making your mistake.”
Outside her window, the lighthouse stood silent against the dawn. No longer haunted. No longer holding secrets.
Inside The Mystic Cup, a medium and a detective began building something new—a partnership that honored both their gifts, a relationship that acknowledged their fears while choosing courage, a future where neither had to face the darkness alone.