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Amelia stood up, joining Finn by the fire. "We need to dive deeper, re-evaluate everything. We've been focused on the resort, on local grievances. Maybe the answer lies elsewhere."
Finn nodded, determination evident in his eyes. “Let’s start fresh. We’ll re-examine everything from the top. We won't leave any stone unturned.”
Amelia smiled, seemingly appreciating his tenacity. "Sounds like a plan. But I'm still not sure exactly where to start."
Amelia settled into a chair, pulling her coat tighter around her as though the evening chill began to permeate the room. Finn turned away and stood in front of the fireplace, eyes distantly staring out of a window as he pondered.
"Do you remember those stories we heard when we first got here? About the hidden folk and their wraith?" Finn asked, his voice holding a hint of excitement.
Amelia arched an eyebrow. "You're not suggesting a wraith is behind all of this, are you?"
Finn turned around and shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head. "No, not at all. But think about it. Stories like these – myths, legends – they always have roots in some form of reality. What if someone is taking these tales seriously? Using the legends of the island as their guide?”
Amelia leaned back, rubbing her temples. "I enjoy folklore as much as the next person, Finn, but I’m not sure how this connects to the victims directly."
Finn paced in front of the fireplace, animated. “Myths always have a basis in truth, Winters. They’re passed down through generations, shape cultures, and become part of a community’s identity. What if someone on this island is thinking, feeling, and even acting as the wraith would? Maybe they were fed these stories as a child, and they deeply internalized them. Instead of avenging the hidden folk against threats to their territory, perhaps this person is avenging the island itself."
Amelia looked contemplative, mulling over Finn's words. "So, you're suggesting that this isn't about Lord Carmichael's resort at all. Instead, it's about outsiders, intruders?"
Finn nodded earnestly. "Exactly. A kind of extreme xenophobia. Someone who believes outsiders are tainting the pure essence of their home."
Amelia sighed, her gaze drifting to the window. "If that’s the case, we may be looking for someone deeply rooted in the island's history and culture. Someone with an intense passion for these legends."
Finn's eyes twinkled with renewed vigor. "It's a new angle to pursue. Let's see where it takes us."
Amelia leaned forward, fingers laced together. "But Finn, remember, Lord Carmichael wasn't just any outsider. His family has roots deep within this island. They were part of the island's tapestry for generations.”
Finn paused, considering Amelia's words. "Yes, but he left, didn't he? He left this place behind for decades, choosing the modern world over tradition over his heritage. When he returned, it wasn't as a prodigal son. It was as a businessman with plans to change the very essence of this place."
Amelia nodded slowly. "So, what you're saying is, in the eyes of our potential killer, Lord Carmichael's betrayal might have been worse than if he were simply an outsider. He didn’t just arrive to change the island; he returned to it, after abandoning it, to alter its fabric.”
Finn pointed to the fire, the flames reflecting in his eyes. "Exactly. In many cultures, betrayal by one of your own is considered the most heinous crime. Lord Carmichael, having roots here and then leaving, only to return with intentions of modernizing... He could have been seen as the ultimate betrayer. Poor Ivar might just have been killed because he was from the mainland. If the killer thinks of himself as the wraith, then he might act like it, too. Weren't we told that the wraith could track down outsiders?”
Amelia's face took on a grim expression. "If your theory is right, Finn, then this killer might view any attempt to alter the island's traditions as a personal affront. That makes identifying them even more urgent. Fishermen and visitors come and go from the island. They could all be in danger."
Finn walked over to the window and stared out at the windswept scene. He was about to turn away from it again when something happened. Amid their conversation, a flicker outside the window grabbed Finn's attention. His eyes sharpened, focusing intently on a strange light that seemed to be hovering amid the tall grass of the moors, glinting even under the pall of gray skies. The sight of it sent a jolt of intrigue through him.
"Amelia, look!" he exclaimed, pointing out excitedly.
But by the time Amelia had turned and approached the window, the mysterious light had vanished, leaving no trace of its ephemeral existence. She shot him a teasing glance, her lips curling into a half-smile. "Seeing ghostly lights now, are we?"
He shook his head with conviction. "I know what I saw, Amelia. It's the second time now. It wasn't just a figment of my imagination."
She shrugged playfully. "Perhaps it's just marsh gas like Kirsty said. This place is old and full of natural peat bogs and wildlife."
"It wasn't like any flame," Finn countered, a touch of frustration in his voice. "It was... glowing."
He took a step back, his gaze drifting from the window as he began to ponder. The sight of the light had rattled something loose inside of him, making him wonder about what was really out there, and that in turn sent his mind racing through many questions. The weight of the case, the unresolved matters from his past, and now these inexplicable sightings seemed to bear down on him all at once.
“I don't know what to make of any of it.”
Amelia, clearly sensing his distress, spoke up, "You mean the case, don't you? You're having second thoughts?"
"No, it's not just the case," Finn sighed, his tall frame sinking into a plush, regal couch, the weight of his internal conflict evident in his posture. "I'm starting to think I shouldn't have come here. I've got too much going on in my head right now."
Amelia hesitated, looking at Finn's troubled expression. The weight of the past few days seemed to press down on him, deepening the lines on his face. She moved closer, sitting beside him on the ornate couch, her gaze focused on him. "Finn, what do you mean?"
He exhaled slowly, choosing his words with care. "Amelia, this case, this island, the myths... it's all intriguing, yes. But... I feel far removed from everything I ever cared about, and not in a good way. In a cowardly way. This place is stirring things within me. Thoughts about Demi, my ex-fiancée, things left unresolved."
