Kendra didn’t call his parents. She walked him home herself, three miles through the wind and rain, and handed him over to a frantic mother who had already called the coast guard. The mother hugged Kendra like she was family.
Kendra just smiled. It was a patient smile, the kind worn by people who had already survived worse things than a coastal nor’easter. kendra sunderland here to stay
“I told you,” she said. “I’m here to stay.” Kendra didn’t call his parents
The room was silent. Then Marv, who had come to argue about fishing quotas, said, “She fixed the lighthouse lens. That’s more than anyone’s done in years.” Kendra just smiled
The old lighthouse at Morrow Point had been empty for seventeen years. Fishermen told stories of a ghost light sweeping the cliffs, and teenagers dared each other to spend an hour inside its peeling, salt-crusted walls. But no one ever stayed.
“No,” Kendra said. “But I’m here to stay.”
