*Noah instinctively leapt into the boat, grabbing the oars as it drifted further from the dock. The water glistened like polished stone beneath him, and the morning mist swirled around the boat's prow. As he rowed, the rhythm of the oars seemed to match the beating of his heart.
The boat glided across the lake, heading toward a small island shrouded in mist. Noah's curiosity grew – where was the boat headed, and who could have left the journal and photograph*were here at last
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