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I pull out the note I made today.
What was Charlie doing in the basement? He acted weird for a few days before the three friends disappeared. Staff caught him sneaking out of his room one night.
“Honestly, we don’t have much to go on. I just want to make sure there’s nothing down here.” I know the police searched down here a decade ago, but if I know one thing from murder TV shows, it’s that the predator always returns to the site. I stuff the note back in my pocket and use my phone’s flashlight to look around. Liam steps closer to me, his chest pressing against my back and sending heat through me.
Our cuddle session on the couch earlier still lives rent-free in my mind.
“Well, let's hurry up and get back so Jericho doesn’t notice we’re gone again,” Liam murmurs, lifting his own phone flashlight toward the closest corner of the basement. “It’s huge down here.”
I was expecting to find a cellar or something, but it’s enormous and oddly empty down here. Unlike my mom’s basement, which was stuffed with all our memories, this is just a cold and unused space.
“Where’s all the stuff?” Lanston grabs my hand reassuringly—I think more for himself, but I still grin.
Liam shudders. “I think it’s worse that there isn’t anything down here. Let’s hurry up.” He nudges me forward. His eyes flick down to Lanston’s hand secured around mine and he grimaces.
We walk the length of the basement and turn a few corners where the walls follow the structure of the main building above. When we round the last corner, our flashlights hit a damp cardboard structure. My blood chills at the sight. It looks like an old fort of some sort.
Lanston gasps and pulls back on my hand. “Okay, we’re leaving right fucking now.” He turns and tries to pull me with him.
I tug my arm back and shake my head. “I’ll be quick,” I say as I firm my trembling hands at my sides. His eyes widen, but he stiffens his posture and comes with me anyway.
Liam curses under his breath and follows. “Wynn, I think we need to call it. Let’s head back up.”
I ignore him as I inspect the boxes.
As best as I can without touching anything, I dip my head and phone into the fort. A nest of blankets and pillows is inside, dust long covering it, but this definitely used to be someone’s home. Was Charlie sneaking down here to meet whoever this was? Or is this Charlie’s fort? It doesn’t look ten years old… it’s fresher than that.
“Well, what do you see?” Liam tugs on my sleeve.
“It looks like someone was living here not long ago.” Before I back out, my eyes catch on something beneath the corner of the blanket. It’s the only thing in here without a layer of dust over it. I carefully pluck it out of the fort to inspect it beneath Liam’s flashlight beam.
“What’s that?” Lanston asks as the three of us huddle over it.
“A photo, I think.” It’s crumpled and fragile, so I’m careful when I unfold the edges. It’s a photo of four people. I flip it over and find names written lousily on the back.
Monica, Beverly, Charlie, Crosby.
Crosby.
The name on Liam’s laundry hamper, the roommate he refuses to talk about.
I flip it back to the faces, all smiling and aloof, Harlow Sanctum at their backs in the distance.
“Crosby?” I mumble as my attention shifts up to Liam. Lanston does the same, his mouth parted slightly like he’s stopping himself from saying something.
Liam’s eyes are wide, filled with horror and undiluted fear.
“Are you okay?” Goosebumps crawl up my arms at his tangible distress.
He seems to be in a trance of sorts for a few moments before he snaps back to reality, ripping the photo from my hand and throwing it back into the fort. His cold hand grips my wrist and then he’s pulling me out of the basement in a hurry. Lanston silently takes up the rear, frequently glancing behind us like someone may be watching.
“What’s wrong?” I ask breathlessly, panic already making my heart race. My stomach is in knots and my mind whirls with infinite questions, but one in particular. “Who the fuck is Crosby?”
* * *
I stare, worry tugging at my brows as Liam pokes his hashbrowns with his plastic fork. They don’t allow us metal ones here for obvious reasons. It’s fair enough.
He didn’t say a word for the rest of the night. My gut says Crosby is someone so malevolent that even Liam fears him. Whoever he is, he has Lanston scared too. He slept in our room last night. Liam wasn’t opposed to sharing his bed with our friend; he seemed more comforted by it than anything.
