Chapter 7 - THE SECOND COPY
My father believed in redundancy.
He kept copies of important documents in separate locations.
Contracts.
Insurance records.
Ownership certificates.
And evidence.
The Lighthouse Archive was no exception.
But he had never told me where the second copy was stored.
I spent the next morning searching his journals.
Most entries concerned ordinary business matters.
Port investments.
Maintenance schedules.
Crew promotions.
Then I found a sentence dated six weeks before his death.
The lighthouse is only useful when someone remembers where to look.
I read it again.
Then looked toward the silver star pendant around my neck.
My father had designed the star emblem used throughout Marlowe Maritime.
Five points.
One longer than the others.
A symbol of navigation.
But he had also built a private collection of historical maritime instruments.
One of them was an old brass lighthouse lantern displayed at our family villa near Nice.
I remembered him joking that it was the only lighthouse he could fit indoors.
My heart began racing.
Adrien arranged transportation to the villa.
I went with my father's attorney, Marianne Duval.
The house had been closed for months.
Dust covered the furniture.
The gardens were overgrown.
But the brass lantern still stood in the study.
Marianne watched as I examined it.
"What are you looking for?"
"I'm not sure."
I ran my fingers along the base.
Then noticed a small engraved star.
I pressed it.
Nothing happened.
I turned the lantern.
The base shifted.
A hidden compartment opened.
Inside was a sealed waterproof pouch.
My hands trembled.
Marianne leaned closer.
"What is it?"
I opened the pouch.
A second data drive.
And a handwritten note.
Elena, if you've found this, someone has already tried to take the first copy.
I stopped breathing.
The note continued.
Trust the evidence. Not the people who tell you what the evidence means.
May you like
At the bottom, my father had written one final sentence.
And don't trust Victor Vale.
