The Lighthouse JournalThe Starlight Point lighthouse had been dark for fifty years. When Maya, a marine historian, finally picked the rusted lock and stepped inside, she found a tomb of salt-stained silence. On a small desk, bolted to the floor, sat a leather-bound journal. Its first entry was dated yesterday.Her breath caught. It was her own handwriting.“Arrived at Starlight Point. The key is under the blue stone, not the red one. The journal is here.” She had looked under the red stone first, wasting an hour. A prickle of unease danced down her spine.She turned the page. The next entry