Page 52 of Consume Me

And I would do it again.

Windsmoor was eerily quiet as we landed the helicopter on the grounds. There had always been something strange about the house, and now it stood empty and lonely, making it even stranger. After Sarah had woken up, the employees had been dismissed or reassigned. I’d been avoiding the question of what to do with the estate ever since. Turning it into a summer house was out of the question, as was gifting it to a family member. It felt wrong—perverse somehow—to do anything with it at all. It had been a house of secrets. It was the place where we stashed the past we didn’t want to confront.

Now, being drawn back here, I realized it had become something else entirely. Knowing Sarah’s story, knowing that my family’s lie had provided cover for a much bigger lie, made the place feel more sinister. It was a warm spring day, but the closer we got to the house the colder I felt.

I was more than happy to let Smith take the lead on this one. I had my own ghosts to battle here.

“According to the blueprints, the entrance will be exterior.” Smith pointed to a patch of nondescript lawn. “Somewhere around here.”

As we moved toward the area, I felt morale tank. The lawn was untouched. If this was where the bunker was placed, it didn’t look like anyone had used it in years. It might not be here at all.

“I’ll grab supplies,” Brex called, hiking a finger towards a potting shed.

We were all eager for answers and knew we had to dig for them. I pushed aside the doubt creeping through me and forced myself to move forward. When Brex handed me a shovel, I got to work. It only took a few minutes before Georgia shouted. “Here!”

She’d hit upon a metal door, long forgotten under grass and dirt. Dropping my shovel, I ran to her and heaved it open. It was dark inside, but I didn’t care. I didn’t wait. I went down the ladder before anyone even had a chance to shine a flashlight.

As I descended, I felt my mood descend as well. Just because there wasn’t a hint of life didn’t mean Clara wasn’t here. I hit the ground with a crunch, landing on an unfinished dirt floor. A moment later, Brex joined me, shining a flashlight into the empty space around us.

The bomb shelter looked like it had only gotten to the foundational stages. A few retaining walls were done, but another had been left unfinished. It had begun to crumble after years of disuse.

“This would have led into living quarters.” Brex took a few steps toward a doorway, but paused. “They didn’t even bother.”

We’d known what we were going to find when we saw the dates on those plans. There was no reason to continue building a fall-out shelter after the war drew to a close. Not even the most judicious minds wanted to linger on wartime sorrows. After the bombs fell, everyone believed no war like that would ever be fought again. They were right.

Now, war was more protracted and more cruel. Now, war found its way into the streets of cities for deadly one night stands. Now, war knocked on your door and took you to battle one-on-one.

I knew because war had found its way to me.

“We should go back up,” Brex coaxed. “Regroup.”

Regroup? What was the point? We were as clueless as when we’d first began. I was vaguely aware of climbing the ladder, my body propelling me up the rungs while my mind stayed below.

I’d been holding on to Clara’s light the last few days, but I couldn’t see it anymore. Not a flicker. Not a flame.

Part of me wanted to tell them to close the door and leave me here to rot. I didn’t deserve more than that, and when sunlight hit my face, I wanted to throw myself back down the hole.

Georgia studied me, her dark eyes inscrutable. I could only imagine what she saw: weakness, failure. But she didn’t comment on that. “Let’s go inside.”

The last time I’d entered this house, I’d been full of dread. Clara had found out my secret. I’d thought then I might lose her. I’d deserved to. Now I wish I had. If she’d left me, none of this would have happened. She would have been safe. But I had been selfish.

In the few months since Windsmoor had been vacated, it had begun to collect dust and cobwebs. Although security checked in on the house, I’d assigned no temporary or permanent staff to keep the grounds or interior orderly. I’d wanted to put this place and what had happened here behind us all.

But Windsmoor didn’t want to let us go.

I bypassed Smith and the others, who’d spread the house’s blue prints on the table looking for some other lead, and headed down the narrow hall to the room where Sarah had slept all those years.

Except Sarah hadn’t been there. If I’d visited I might have known that. Where had they kept her? Who had kept her? Why? Each door I passed seemed to ask another unanswerable question.

When I opened the door to her room, it was as empty as the unfinished bomb shelter. The hospital bed was gone, as were the machines. There was no nurse sitting bedside. It was simply an ordinary room that held no memory of what it had once been.

“I’m sorry.” My words echoed in the empty chamber. I didn’t know who I was speaking to—I didn’t know who I’d wronged—but I needed to say it. “I wish I could undo it all. I wish I could erase all the pain I’ve caused. I wish I could pay for my own sins.”

Because Clara was paying for them while trying to protect our unborn child. She’d paid my debts over and over. Because Norris had given his life for my family. He’d given everything for me. Loving me wasn’t worth the price.

“This isn’t your fault,” Georgia’s voice punctured the silence.

I couldn’t bring myself to face her. She knew better than most what I was capable of—the monster lurking behind the man.