(Emery’s POV)
The storage unit sat on the edge of the city like it was trying to forget it belonged there.
Unassuming. Rusted gate. A keypad with fading numbers and a buzzer that didn’t work.
James had followed them in a separate car. Luca hadn’t let go of her hand the entire ride.
Emery’s stomach twisted.
Not with nausea.
With instinct.
Something waited behind that door.
Something final.
Luca punched in the code from the card: 0405.
Her mother’s birthday.
The lock clicked.
He pushed the door open slowly.
The air inside was stale.
And cold.
And wrong.
⸻
Rows of plastic bins and old filing cabinets.
Stacks of unlabeled VHS tapes.
A corkboard with photos.
Dozens of them.
Faces they recognized: Wyatt. Blake. Dean Ashcroft. Dr. Keller from the psych department. Board membe
