The sun had just begun its slow descent towards the horizon, casting long shadows over the rugged, wave-beaten cliffs that cradled the ancient lighthouse. Atop its solitary vigil, the structure stood, an unwavering sentinel against the ceaseless murmur of the sea. Inside, Victoria Alvarez, whose soul seemed as much a part of the lighthouse as the sturdy bricks that composed it, paused in her methodical task of cleaning the aged but well-maintained lens. Her hazel eyes, reflecting the ever-changing moods of the ocean, caught a glimpse of an unexpected figure making their way up the winding path towards her secluded haven.

A subtle frown creased her weathered features, not out of displeasure, but surprise. Company was a rare occurrence in these parts, especially unannounced. The heavy boots that had walked countless circles around the lighthouse's perimeter hesitated, then moved with a deliberate grace born of years navigating the narrow stairs and corridors of her maritime fortress.

"And here I thought I was having a nice night in alone." she mused silently, her voice a mere whisper lost in the symphony of wind and waves. Her hands, calloused yet precise, rested momentarily on the cool brass of the lens. The thought lingered in her mind, an uninvited guest amid the solitude she so often kept.