My mother had told me the legend many times growing up, but it wasn’t until I met him, my secret, that I realised it was true.

We met the day before my sixteenth birthday. I walked along the shoreline, my heart breaking, the tears falling, and my frustration at the unfairness of it all as I recovered from the news that the boy I loved was due to be married to another. As the wind whipped my long red hair into a tangled frenzy and the wet sand beginning to stick between my toes, I decided it was time to head for a bit of shelter and made my way to Roane House. Roane House was an abandoned house that was often under the waves of the sea but when the water was out, as it was today, it was a sacred, mystical place, a tween place, half owned by…