The House Between Tides: BOOK 14

A shell.

A piece of driftwood.

An old bottle.

Sometimes something far more complicated.

For Isabel Navarro, the lesson began with a letter.

It arrived without an envelope.

One morning, she found a folded sheet of paper beneath the windshield wiper of her car.

There was no name on it.

No address.

Only one sentence:

Come before the tide takes the house.

Beneath the words was a small drawing of a lighthouse.

Isabel recognized it immediately.

She had seen the lighthouse years earlier while documenting the coastal communities near Mar Azul.

It stood several kilometers north of the old hotel, on a narrow stretch of land surrounded by water during high tide.

She had never visited the house beside it.