Lena came to Cliff Shores in mid-June, not entirely voluntarily. Her parents got a job at the marina, and she got a view of the mists. At night she could hear seagulls, the bell on the breakwater and something else, quieter. Her grandfather left her a small walkie-talkie; Lena liked to scan the bands before she fell asleep. Always at exactly 00:07, when the harbour bell was silent, it would start tapping. It sounded like the Morse alphabet she used to learn in the scouts. - 'It's not the storm, it's the Ghost Whistle,' said Maks from the sailing club as she played him the recording. They sat in the boathouse, between coils of rope and wet, leaking waistcoats. - He has apparently been broadcasting from the old lighthouse on the Vulture Head for years, sometimes warning, sometimes calling. They say the last lighthouse keeper disappeared during a great storm years ago. - It's just a legend," she muttered, although her skin was already goosebumps from it. On her phone, she quickly picked apart the rhythm into dots and dashes, exactly. One word came out of the calculation: "DON'T GO", again at exactly 00:07. The next night they went out onto the cliff path with torches as the fog descended. The netting at the technical descent was cut and the padlock dangled stray. There was a breeze of metal, seaweed and something old, like a wet, invisible current. - 'We'll just see and then we'll go back,' Maks said, but they walked down for a long time. Footsteps rumbled on the spiral staircase and the walkie-talkie beeped louder and louder. Lena's phone suddenly vibrated with a message: "Strong signal detected nearby". After a brief moment, the sound formed clearly into single letters. The letters formed her name: "L-E-N-A". The door to the boiler room of the lighthouse stood ajar, as if someone had just left. Inside, dust and rust, but the concrete was darkened by wet footprints of bare feet. One larger, the other as if of a child, with a clear mark from a heel patch. A map of the town hung on the wall, and a pin stuck right next to their tenement. The radio beeped, hummed, until suddenly a male whisper rang out on a clear channel. - Don't come down, they already know you came here. The light bulb blinked twice, then went out completely, and behind the door something dragged a heavy chain.