December 1, 1855
The sea is never still. Sometimes it roars so load that it drowns our voices. Mama says there hasn't been a storm this fierce since the night I was born. She thinks it too dangerous for me to go to the tower again. Yet what else can I do? I'm the lightkeeper now.
On the tiny lighthouse island that is her family's new home, Birdie faithfully keeps a journal. She writes down everthing: the change of seasons, the rhythms of the sea, and all that her father, the lightkeeper, is te...
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