You can't do anything to change the past, that much is true, but knowing about it might help you in the future. You can't afford to get caught up in anything else. You have to keep thinking ahead, or else—
The ground beneath you sinks like quicksand. Before you can grab hold of anything, you are plummeting beneath the dead leaves, falling like Alice through the rabbit hole.
You are just about to cry out for help when you slam against the ground again.
Music thumps from only a few yards away.
Someone nearby laughs, then drops a red plastic cup of dark liquid that splashes on the dirt.
Shadows flicker as the wind moves through the flames of the bonfire ahead of you.
You are back at that night. The night of the party. The night Rex died.
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