Over the next two days, Jack and I delved deeply into the time fracture phenomenon, combining our knowledge from different eras. I contributed modern meteorological and physical theories, while Jack provided years of direct observation and data accumulated by his family. We covered the table on the middle level of the lighthouse with notes, charts, and calculations, with hand-drawn timelines and observation records plastered all over the walls.
'If we imagine the fracture as a tunnel connecting two points in time,' Jack explained while drawing a diagram on paper, 'then it has its own "tides"—sometimes expanding, sometimes contracting.'
'Like the wormhole theory in quantum physics,' I continued his thought, then realised this concept wouldn't take shape for several decades, 'Um, a future theory.'
Just as we were deep in discussion, a shout came from outside the lighthouse. Jack frowned and walked to the window. 'It's Mr. Coleman,' he explained, 'the town postman.'
Jack went downstairs to collect the mail, while I continued organising our research materials. As I moved a stack of papers, I discovered a brass key I had never seen before. The key looked ancient, with an intricate design, clearly different from the iron keys common in the lighthouse.
I picked up the key, examining it curiously. Just then, Jack returned with several letters in his hand. His gaze immediately fell on the key in my hand, and his expression grew somewhat tense.
'Where did you find that?' he asked, his voice more serious than usual.
'Under these documents,' I explained, confused by his reaction, 'What key is this?'
Jack hesitated, seeming to weigh whether to tell me the truth. Finally, he sighed. 'That's the key to a certain room at the top of the lighthouse. A... special room.'
'I thought we had already visited all areas of the lighthouse,' I said, recalling the spaces where we had worked and lived over the past few days.
'Not all areas,' Jack said softly, 'There's one room I keep locked, and few people know of its existence.'
This piqued my curiosity. 'Why keep it locked? What's inside?'
Jack's expression became complex, showing both hesitation and some emotion I couldn't fully interpret. 'That's... my research. The most private, in-depth part of my study of the time fracture.'
'You don't trust me?' I asked directly, somewhat hurt. After days of researching together and getting to know each other, I thought we had established sufficient trust.
'It's not about trust,' Jack quickly responded, 'It's just... some things might be disturbing, even dangerous.'
We looked at each other for a moment, a slight tension lingering in the air. Finally, Jack seemed to reach a decision.
'Perhaps it's time,' he said, reaching for the key, 'If we're really going to solve the problem of the time fracture, you should know the whole truth.'
Jack led me up to the top level of the lighthouse, to an area adjacent to the main lamp room. I had always thought it was just a solid wall, but Jack moved aside a tapestry to reveal a hidden small door.
'This room was built by my grandfather,' he explained, inserting the key into the lock, 'specifically for studying temporal anomalies.'
The door opened, and we entered a small circular room filled with wondrous objects. The walls were covered with clocks from various eras, some showing normal time, others completely stopped, and some running at strange speeds. In the centre was a large workbench with various precision instruments and notebooks. Most striking was a huge map on the wall, marking suspected 'time fracture' locations around the world.
'This is incredible,' I marvelled, looking around, 'You've been studying temporal anomalies globally?'
'Not just me,' Jack answered, walking to a bookshelf and taking down several leather-bound journals, 'Since my great-grandfather, the Howard family has been recording and studying these phenomena.'
He opened a journal, showing me detailed observation records, including complex calculations and hand-drawn diagrams. 'We suspect there are multiple time fractures in the world, but the one at Fog Corner seems to be the most stable and enduring.'
I noticed a strange device on the workbench—it looked like a complex combination of a pocket watch and sextant, with a small blue crystal in the centre.
'What's that?' I asked, pointing to the device.
Jack's expression grew more serious. 'A time locator. It's said to help users find and stabilise specific points in time. My grandfather acquired it from a visitor who claimed to be from the future.'
I moved closer to examine the device, noting that its design far exceeded 1920s technology. In fact, even in my time, such a precision instrument would be highly advanced.
'Is this what you've been hiding?' I asked, 'A research laboratory?'
Jack's gaze avoided mine as he moved to the other side of the room. 'Not only that.'
He lifted a cloth, revealing what was underneath—a huge mirror with strange runes carved into its frame. The surface had an unnatural fluidity, like quicksilver, yet it clearly reflected our figures.
'What is this?' I asked softly, feeling an inexplicable chill.
'The Mirror Door,' Jack answered, his voice deep and solemn, 'at least that's what my grandfather named it. It's said that under specific conditions, it can show scenes from other points in time, even... possible futures.'
I involuntarily moved closer to the mirror, reaching out to gently touch it. The surface rippled slightly under my fingertips, like water creating waves.
'What have you seen in it?' I asked.
Jack was silent for a long time, then finally spoke: 'I saw the lighthouse accident on 21st September. I saw... my own disappearance.'
This answer made me turn to him in shock. 'You know what will happen? You know you will... disappear?'
'Not exactly,' Jack corrected, 'The mirror shows possibilities, not definite futures. But...' he paused, 'all signs point to the same outcome.'
'Then why don't you leave?' I felt a surge of confusion and anxiety, 'If you know the lighthouse might be dangerous, why stay?'
'Because of responsibility,' Jack answered simply, his gaze becoming determined, 'A lighthouse keeper's duty is not only to protect ships at sea, but also... to maintain the stability of time. If I leave, the consequences could be more severe.'
I looked at this man willing to sacrifice himself for duty, feeling a complex mix of emotions—admiration, worry, puzzlement, and a feeling I dared not fully acknowledge.
'There's one more thing,' Jack continued, walking to a small cabinet in the corner of the room, 'Perhaps the most important.'
He took out a small wooden box from the cabinet and carefully opened it. Inside was a pocket watch almost identical to the one on my chest, the only difference being that it was inscribed with 'J.H.' rather than my grandmother's name.
'This is my watch,' Jack explained, 'It's a pair with yours. According to family legend, when both watches appear in the same timeline, they can... change destiny.'
He handed me the watch, and I felt a subtle attraction between the two timepieces, pulling toward each other like magnets.
'You've always known I would come,' I slowly realised, 'You've been waiting for someone with the matching watch.'
Jack nodded, his eyes full of deep emotion. 'I wasn't sure who it would be, or when they would arrive. But family records mention that whenever the time fracture approaches its peak, the watch bearer would be summoned.'
'Summoned to do what?' I pressed.
'To repair the fracture,' Jack answered, 'Or... to cross through it. The specific method isn't clear in the records, but using the two watches together is key.'
I looked at the two pocket watches in my hand, feeling the connection between them, my mind full of questions and uncertainty. 'Why tell me all this now?'
Jack's expression turned guilty. 'I needed to be sure you could handle this information. The time fracture isn't just a scientific phenomenon, Ella. It involves destiny and choice, potentially altering not just our lives, but the structure of reality itself.'
I understood his concerns, but still felt a twinge of discontent at being kept in the dark. 'What else should I know?'
'Much more,' Jack admitted, 'But most importantly, this.' He walked to the workbench and picked up a notebook that looked older than the others, turning to a specific page. 'This was written by my great-grandfather on 22nd September, 1826—the day after the lighthouse accident.'
He handed me the book, and I read the shocking contents: 'Today the lighthouse has returned to calm, as if yesterday's disaster never happened. Jack has disappeared, but I firmly believe he is not dead, but has travelled through the fracture to another time. Even more amazingly, in his room, I found a note written in his handwriting: "I found her. Don't worry, time will cycle."'
I looked up, meeting Jack's gaze, my mind full of questions. 'What does this mean?'
'I'm not entirely sure,' Jack answered softly, 'But it makes me believe that whatever happens on 21st September, it won't be an end, but possibly another beginning.'
We stood in the room full of secrets, holding watches that spanned time, facing an unknown destiny. The lighthouse accident nine days later was no longer just a record in history, but a crucial moment we were about to experience firsthand.
Regardless of how much Jack had concealed before, at this moment I understood one thing: our fates had long been intertwined, much more closely than I had imagined.