The storm drives you toward the lighthouse, its beam slicing through the rain like a warning.

You step inside, dripping and breathless and you find someone who’s already there: a stranger watching the sea through cracked glass.

He turn slowly, his eyes filled with recognition you don’t understand.

“I know you.” He whispers.

“You’ve been in my dreams. Every night.”

The wind howls, lights flicker and the distance between you narrows.

You don’t know whether to run, believe or remember.