The ghost of your childhood friend seems instantly angry.

"It's COUNTER Fare-A-Day. How do you even know that?"

You wheeze a bitter laugh. What a coincidence... how joyous this would be, if it weren't so horrible...

Your voice comes out knotty and tired.

"Oh, Antony, it really is you, eh, feller? Haven't changed a day, have you."

"You better explain yourself this instant. I've never seen you before," he starts, though he's clearly intimidated.

"I'm not really sure you'd believe me..."

"What? What does that mean?"

You just shake your head. "I see you even have yer dad's hat. Somethin' close to it."

He touches his hat, frowning.

"Oh, so you're one of his friends? Well, I'm working as fast as I can! I promised I'd be there by December."

You clench your teeth. Even your permanent smile wanes, just a bit.

Take a moment, Goodie. Think about it. Just what have you stumbled into?

The words come out slow. "Ain't no-one waiting for you now, Antony. Not even a Goodie Twoshoes like me could wait so long as fifteen years."

The Counter blinks.

You wonder what it is with the Wood and children. What it was with all those missing. What you had that they didn't, even.

"Not even your dad, kid. Not even mine."

"Are you alright in the head?" His voice turns dark and quiet, but his eyes widened at the mention of Goodie Twoshoes.

You feel frustrated. "How -- tell me how old you are."

"I'm -- I'm going to be sixteen! In December! Only a month away, Dad already knows that, everyone knows that!"