Memories of Carter were one of the few highlights in the tapestry of his past.
A pang of sympathy struck me, and my hand reached out instinctively toward Colin's, only to recoil before contact.
What kind of person had I become? Was there a future for Colin and me?
"Phoebe... you're not a bad person," said Colin, his grip firm on my hand.
In moments of self-doubt, he steadfastly believed in me.
"Do you know why Finn changed his name?" Colin seemed eager to lighten the mood, straining to shift the conversation. "After Carter's death, he was haunted by nightmares, believing Carter's ghost was following him, that... Carter was still with him. He even got electrocuted at home, said he saw a ghost."
Colin chuckled. "His parents consulted all sorts of specialists to exorcise the ghost, but eventually, a therapist said it was a hallucination from the shock. But Finn wasn't reassured, so he had a fortune-teller change his name to ward off Carter's spirit." Colin fell silent.
His grip tightened around my hand, his Adam's apple bobbing.
Looking at Colin, I should have found the story amusing, but I couldn't muster a smile.
I saw his effort to cheer me up. His clumsy tenderness was heart-wrenching.
"I just want you to be happy... but I always mess things up." Colin's voice was hoarse as his grip loosened.
The rest of our walk was silent; neither of us spoke again.
Back home, I secluded myself in Colin's basement.
Staring at the web of clues on the wall, I was lost in thought.
Who was Colin so protective of?
It seemed his concerns lay with two people: Carter and 'Phoebe'.
Both were 'deceased'.
The clues on the wall captivated me for a long time.
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