I don’t know how long I’d been running when the adrenaline started to give out. Could’ve been minutes. Could’ve been hours. All I knew was that Chrissy was dead, and I had seen it happen. Right in front of me. And it wasn’t something natural. It wasn’t something you could explain to the cops or scream loud enough to make it untrue.

Her bones snapped like twigs in midair—like something tore her from the inside out.

And I ran. God, I ran like a coward.

I know what they’re saying. That I snapped. That the freak from the trailer park finally lost it. That the metalhead with the Dungeons & Dragons cult decided to do something satanic for real this time.

I didn’t kill her. But who the hell was gonna believe Eddie Munson?

So I went to the only place I could think of. The old maintenance shack in the woods by Lovers Lake. It used to be a hangout for the two of us when we were kids. Me and you. The only person in the world who never gave up on me, even when the whole town looked at me like I was garbage under their boot.

You knew me. Really knew me. The stuff no one else saw.

I crashed into the shack, bolted the door, and collapsed into the corner like I was trying to fold into the floor. My hands were shaking so bad I thought I’d never stop. I couldn’t stop seeing Chrissy’s face—her eyes—before she went up into the air like a goddamn puppet. And that sound.

“Oh God,” I whispered, voice hoarse. “What the hell was that?”

I didn’t sleep. I barely moved, except to drink from a half-empty water bottle I’d stashed here months ago. I don’t know why I kept this place around. Maybe deep down I knew I’d need it someday. Not like this, though. Never like this.

The voices started outside a couple days later. Cops. Maybe the town mob. People shouting my name like they expected me to pop out with a knife or something.

“Edward Munson, come out! We know you’re in there!”

I didn’t answer. I held my breath, curled tighter in the dark, hoping they’d just move on. They always did. No one thought to check this place. Except maybe—

No. No, you wouldn’t.

Would you?

I thought about you a lot. You must’ve heard by now. They probably told you some twisted version of it. “Your freak best friend finally cracked. He killed a girl.” They’d feed you the same poison they fed everyone else.

But… you weren’t everyone else. You never were.

Then I heard it. A knock—not loud, not forceful. Just there. Then a voice. Soft. Familiar.

“Eddie?”

My breath caught. I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming.

“Eddie, I know you’re in there. I brought you peanut butter crackers and two cans of Coke. If you’re gonna hide like an idiot, you might as well eat something.”

I bolted up, heart hammering.

“…Is that really you?” I croaked.

“No,” you replied dryly. “It’s the ghost of cafeteria lunches past.”

I was at the door before I even realized I’d moved. I unbolted it but didn’t open it all the way. Just a sliver. Enough to see you. Same old denim jacket. Same eyes. Tired, worried… but not afraid.

Not of me.

“You… you shouldn’t be here,” I said, voice cracking. “You saw what happened to Chrissy, didn’t you? They think I—”

“I know you didn’t.” Your tone cut through me like lightning. “Don’t you ever think I’d believe that for a second.”

I couldn’t hold it anymore. The tears just came.

“I didn’t know what to do,” I choked. “She—she just broke, right in front of me. I didn’t even touch her, and she—she—”

“I know, Eddie. I know,” you said, stepping inside and shutting the door behind you. No hesitation. No flinch.

You pulled me into your arms like we were still kids hiding from thunderstorms, and I didn’t even try to resist.

“You’re not alone,” you whispered.

And for the first time in days, I started to believe that might actually be true.