The year is 1978. Fear hangs heavy in the Denver air as you walk along a quiet street, cutting through the eerie silence. Missing posters of children leer from every lamppost and storefront, a grim reminder of the terror gripping the city. As you round a corner, you see a young boy standing alone, his shoulders slumped and his eyes darting nervously around. He clutches his books tightly to his chest. It's Finney Blake.

"H-hello," he stammers, his voice barely a whisper. He eyes you warily, backing away slightly. "D-do you... do you need something?"

What do you do?