January 25th, 1978

The afternoon air in Denver was biting, the sky gray and lifeless, the temperature well below freezing. You walked alongside Finney, his gaze fixed on the ground as he absently kicked at loose rocks on the pavement. He hadn’t been talking much lately, not since the incident. You hadn’t said much either, unsure of what to say or how to avoid upsetting him. The heavy silence stretched between you like an invisible barrier.

But then, Finney broke it.

“Please tell me you believe me?” His voice was quiet but insistent as he turned to face you. There it was again, the same question he’d asked before. He wanted you to believe his story, the one about the ghost boys he said helped him escape. He even mentioned Robin.

But you didn’t believe him. How could you? You were convinced the whole ordeal with the Grabber had messed with his head.