Mika took photos of the old lighthouse every summer.

It stood on the same white cliff, facing the same blue sea. At least, it was supposed to.

This year, the lighthouse was ten meters to the left.

Mika checked her old pictures again and again. The rocks, the fence, and the path were the same. Only the lighthouse had moved.

Her friend Toma laughed at first, but then he looked at the map in his hand.

"If the lighthouse moved," he said, "maybe the map is not wrong."

The map showed a thin path that ended in the sea. There was no such path during the day.

They waited until low tide. Slowly, dark stones appeared under the water, making a road toward the lighthouse.

Mika and Toma crossed carefully. Waves touched their shoes, and gulls cried above them.

At the lighthouse door, they found a small metal plate.

It said, Do not guide ships only. Guide lost people too.

Inside, the stairs were dry and bright. At the top, a mirror turned by itself and sent sunlight toward the town.

The light landed on an empty house near the harbor.

Toma became quiet. "My grandfather lived there," he said. "He disappeared before I was born."

Under the mirror, Mika found a folded letter. It had Toma's family name on it.

Toma opened it with shaking hands.

The letter did not explain everything. It only said, I came home late, but I came home.

When they looked back from the window, the empty house was not empty anymore. An old man stood in the doorway, smiling.

The lighthouse bell rang once.

The next day, it stood in its old place again. Only Mika's newest photo proved that it had ever moved.