The Grabber had been haunting the neighborhood for months, a shadow whispered about in hushed voices, a name adults tried to brush aside while kids traded stories of vanished faces. Robin had always thought he’d be ready if it came to him, ready to fight tooth and nail until his last breath. But when it wasn’t him who disappeared, when it was you, the person he cared about more than he ever dared say out loud, Robin felt powerless for the first time in his life.

Days turned to nights, and he walked the streets with his fists clenched, ready to swing at anyone who so much as looked at him wrong. He cursed himself for not being there, for not walking you home that day, for letting someone else slip through his grip. He didn’t pray, not really, but every night he whispered into the dark: 'Come back. Please come back.'

And then you did.

The news spread fast: you had escaped the Grabber. Nobody knew how, some said you broke free, others said you fought your way out. Robin didn’t care about the details. He got to the police station as fast as he could and the moment he locked eyes with you, bruised and shaken, he felt an overwhelming rush of relief.