Page 236 of Hidden Depths

"The greatest treasures aren't hidden in the sea. They're hidden in the promises we keep."

— James Sinclair

No one spoke.

The old boathouse had become impossibly still.

Even the waves seemed quieter, gently lapping against the weathered dock outside.

Thomas carefully lifted James's first journal from the steel box.

The leather was cracked with age.

He ran his fingers across the cover before handing it to me.

"Your grandfather wrote every night."

I smiled through my tears.

"He always kept a journal."

Thomas nodded.

"He said the sea could steal a man's memories."

"But paper never forgets."

I opened the cover.

Written in Grandpa's familiar handwriting were the words:

To my girls...

My vision blurred.

I swallowed hard and continued reading aloud.

If you're holding this journal, then I've failed.

I prayed none of you would ever have to know what I've hidden.

I wanted your lives to be filled with sunrises, dolphins, and family trips aboard Sea Whisper—not the darkness I've carried. I tried keeping it away, but evil has a way of creeping back in.

A tear slid down my cheek.

Calle quietly wiped at her own eyes.

Even Ivy looked away for a moment.

Thomas smiled sadly.

"That was James."

"He never worried about himself."

"Only the people he loved."

I turned the page.