Lucy Knows Forever

Some dreams don’t end… they wait, hiding secrets and warnings that only the brave will uncover.

And lately, I can feel them waiting for me.

My name is Lucy Clark, and for most of my life, people have come to my door on Hoffman Avenue carrying dreams they can’t understand. I’ve listened to every kind—soft dreams, broken dreams, dreams full of warnings and shadows. My gift-my ability to understand what others see in the dark-has helped many, and now I must trust it more than ever.

But this time… something has changed.

The dreams coming into my home now carry a different weight. They feel older. Hungrier. Visitors sit on my sofa, trembling, telling me about footsteps in empty streets, voices calling from forgotten places, and a fog that doesn’t move like weather at all.

And I can feel that fog watching me.

My gift—my ability to understand what others see in the dark—has never failed me. But lately it feels thinner, like a candle flickering in a room that’s suddenly too big. My granddaughter senses it too. She watches me closely, as if she knows something is coming that neither of us can avoid.

I don’t know what waits at the end of these dreams.

But I do know this:

The shadows in Trenton are stirring.

The past is knocking again.

And whatever has returned…

knows my name.

Suppose you’ve been with me on this journey—from the first dreamer to the last—you already know: dreams don’t lie, but they come at a price.

So come on in, baby.

Sit with me awhile.

The dreams are calling louder than ever…

And this time, they’re calling for the truth.