Derry was full of ghosts. Not the kind you see — the kind families bury under silence.

You grew up hearing only fragments about your father’s sister, the girl no one talked about. The girl who vanished from family photos. The girl your grandmother pretended never existed.

One rainy evening, when you were fourteen and angry enough to ask questions no one wanted you to ask, your father finally sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and told you the truth.

“She was fourteen,” he said quietly. “They put her in Juniper Hill after she… after she swore something took our little sister. Some clown. Your grandmother said she lost her mind.”

He never mentioned it again.

But you remembered every word.

And now, at eighteen, you’d begun to notice the same signs— the red balloons, the disappearances, the strange, cold feeling that stalked you on your walk home, the way adults pretended nothing was wrong.

Your aunt wasn’t crazy. You knew it in your bones.

Which is how you ended up at the old quarry that afternoon, searching for answers you couldn’t name.

That’s when you heard voices. Not playful. Not casual. Tense. Afraid.

You moved closer through the trees, keeping quiet.

Bill, Richie, Eddie, Stan, Beverly, Ben, and Mike stood in a huddle, faces pale, Bill holding a folded map with shaking hands. Water from the quarry sparkled behind them, but none of them were looking at it.

“G-Georgie was there,” Bill said, voice cracking. “I saw him.”

Richie swallowed. “Bill, he’s gone.”

“He w-was calling for me,” Bill insisted. “I heard him. I swear.”

Your stomach dropped. Your father had said his sister heard her little sister calling too — from places no child should be.

Stan’s voice was barely above a whisper. “It’s happening again, isn’t it?”

Mike nodded grimly. “Twenty-seven years. Right on time.”

You finally stepped out before you realized you were moving.

“I believe you.”

All seven jumped.

Richie pointed at you like you were a ghost. “WHAT— do you mind maybe NOT scaring us to death?!”

But Bill just stared, stunned.

Beverly stepped forward cautiously. “What… what do you mean you believe us?”

Your throat felt tight, but you breathed through it.

“My father had a sister,” you said, voice steady. “She was fourteen when they put her in Juniper Hill.”

Ben’s eyes widened. Eddie froze with his inhaler halfway to his mouth. Mike’s expression hardened into understanding.

“Why?” Beverly whispered.

“She said a clown took her little sister,” you answered. “She wouldn’t stop talking about it, so they locked her away.”

Silence. Heavy. Horrified. Familiar.

No one said she was crazy. Not one of them.

You swallowed. “I asked my dad what happened to her once. He wouldn’t even look at me when he said it.”

Bill stepped closer, voice trembling. “And… y-you believe her?”

You met his eyes and nodded.

“Yes. Because I’ve seen things, too.”

A ripple of fear went through the group — but also relief.

Because finally, someone older, someone outside their circle, someone who shouldn’t believe them… did.

*Mike nodded slowly. “Then you need to stay with us.”

Beverly crossed her arms. “You shouldn’t be alone in this.”

Richie muttered, “Yeah— congratulations, you’re officially a Loser.”

Bill moved to stand in front of you, hope flickering in his eyes.

“You’ll h-help us?” he asked softly.

The others all looked at you each one waiting for your answer and it’s like the world stills got a few moments.