I drive the RV through the broken gates, thankful that even though we own the property, Roman gave the local authorities a heads-up that we’d be out here. I park near what looks like an old visitor lot, where the weeds grow through the asphalt like nature’s trying to reclaim what humanity abandoned.
Though I’m not sure how much humanity ever existed on this property.
We sit in silence for five long minutes.
“Clover?”
“I’m going. I’m just—” She sucks in a breath like she’s drowning. Then three more. “I’m reminding myself that I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m stronger, you know?”
I wish I did. My pain points all came from the hospital. Not what put me there.
Reaching over, I hold her hand. It’s quickly become my favorite new habit. “I’m here. Nothing here can hurt you anymore. We just need to…look around. Maybe it will trigger something for me.”
She squeezes my hand so hard it almost hurts. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
Exiting the RV, we walk toward the main building, silent in our ascent.
The first thing I notice is that the air smells…wrong. It’s not just the decay, though there’s plenty of that—the scent of rotting wood and mildew. It’s something else. Something that makes every instinct I’ve honed over the years stand up and take notice.
Wrecks refuses to leave Clover’s side, and for once, I’m thankful for the menace. Her hand runs through his fur as though she needs the tactile reminder that she’s safe.
“Come on, boy,” Chief coaxes, tugging gently on his leash. “Give her some space.”
Wrecks plants himself in front of Clover and growls, low and threatening—something I’ve never heard him do.
“Okay then.” Chief releases the leash. “Guess you’re on guard duty. Bark if anyone shows up.”
Clover continues toward the main building, and I fall into step beside her, one hand resting on the small of her back, the other at the ready at my side. Chief follows a few paces behind, his hand resting on the gun I know he’s carrying despite being retired.
“This was Terra’s,” Clover says, pointing to the main building. Her voice is flat, distant. “She sat on her throne, watching everyone. Making sure we were…grateful. Forcing us to smile.”
“How many people lived here?” I ask.
“At its peak? Maybe a hundred. Adults and as many children as she could collect.”
The way she says the wordcollectmakes me shiver.
She points to the smaller cabins. “Families lived in those. Unless you were being punished.” She shrugs. “Or you were me. Then you lived in the main building. Or in the basement.”
My jaw clamps together. “You lived in the basement?”
“Sometimes.” She won’t look at me. “When I asked too many questions. When I wasn’t…obedient enough. Mostly when I refused to call her Mother or when she couldn’t keep you in line.”
I want to burn this place to the ground. And I will.
“The main building first?” Chief asks, scanning the area with a practiced eye. I may give the old man shit, but there’s no doubtin my mind he’s here to protect Clover, and that makes him important to me too.
Clover’s gaze drifts to the tree line off the far side of the compound. “No.” She grabs hold of her elbows, squeezing herself so tightly she practically vibrates. “Let’s go to the tree. That’s where Valen and I hid things. If there’s anything left—if the journal is still there?—”
“Lead the way,” I finish so she knows she’s in charge here.
The path to the tree is overgrown but still visible. Clover walks it as if muscle memory alone is leading the way. She never looks down, just moves forward through waist-high grass and weeds.
“We weren’t supposed to go this far from the main buildings,” she says, pushing aside a low-hanging branch. “But there was a gap in the fence. Right over there.” She points to a section where the chain-link has been cut and peeled back. “Valen found it. Or maybe he made it. I don’t remember. But we’d sneak through and run into the woods where no one could see us.”
“How often?” I ask.
“Every day if we could. Sometimes just for an hour. Sometimes longer, if Terra was busy with other things.” She ducks under another branch. “It was the only place we could be ourselves. The only place we could breathe. You were the only one I was allowed to spend time with, but only when she said, and we could only do what she wanted.”
