EPISODE 4: THE ALTAR BENEATH THE TIDE ## Chapter One: The Ledger of Drowned Names The rain had found a new rhythm by mid-morning, less a weeping than a conspiratorial murmur against the slate roof of Dunmere Manor. Eleanor sat at the long oak table in the kitchen, a cup of coffee gone cold between her palms, watching the steam surrender its ghost. The house smelled of damp wool and yesterday’s ashes. Upstairs, Maeve still slept the stubborn sleep of the adolescent wronged—door locked, earbuds no doubt leaking whatever furious music kept the world at bay. Eleanor had not told her about the footprints at the cove. Not yet. A knock sounded at the front door, three measured raps that carried the weight of someone who expected to be obeyed. Eleanor’s spine straightened before her mind caught up. She crossed the flagstones on bare feet, the chill biting up through her soles like a warning. When she opened the door, Reverend Thomas Hale stood on the threshold, black cassock plastered to his narrow frame, water streaming from the brim of his hat in perfect silver threads. “Eleanor,” he said, voice low and oiled with pastoral concern. “I thought it best to come in person. The wind carries strange tales this season.” She did not invite him in. Instead she...