Tryst Six Venom by Penelope Douglas

Except for Archie.
Old places have a way of growing more alive the longer they stand. The
stories they house, the memories they facilitate… We can’t meet Elvis, but
thousands of people visit his home every year, because to be where he was is
like seeing his ghost.
Saber Point erodes more every year, and eventually they’ll tear it down
when it becomes a hazard, taking its century-long history with it like the
lightkeeper and Archie (and the girl) were never here at all.
Like I was never here at all and about to kill Olivia Jaeger.
The crowd falls away as I climb and climb, and I hear a door slam above
me. The service room and watch room are before the catwalk at the top, and I
launch up the rest of the stairs, drops of rain pummeling the windows like
darts as the music fades to a low beat below me. I jump up to the landing,
grab the handle, but then I pause, my heart beating so hard it hurts my chest.
Pressing my other hand to the door, I lean my ear in, listening. But I
Prevail’s rendition of “Blank Space” drowns out everything. Even the sound
of my breathing.
I should leave. What will I accomplish by ripping both of their hair out?
I’m better than that. I can have anyone. She should beg for me.
But my gut twists into knots, and I can’t ignore it. I’ve lost everything
that’s important. I’m not losing the only other thing that matters anymore.
Twisting the handle, I inhale and hold it, bracing myself as I open the
door and enter the room.
Moonlight casts a dim glow through the fifteen or so small, circular
windows spread out around the room that lightkeepers used to watch the
weather, the walls paneled with wood, unlike the brick of the rest of the
structure.
A blackboard sits on the wall to my right, remnants of chalk still dusting
its surface, and a square, wooden table fills the center of the small room
alongside a large cannister. The old gears and axles inside the glass windows
that once operated the lens are now still and quiet.
Another narrow, spiral staircase leads up through the ceiling, but the
small hatch door to the lantern is closed.
No Liv.
I spin around, heading for the service room, but she’s there, stepping
around the corner and into the doorway.
I halt. The other girl isn’t with her.