Every Halloween, the Frost Line Tavern holds the same contest.

The dead get remembered. The locals get drunk. And sooner or later, someone walks in wearing the face of somebody Hessick has already buried.

Bartender Eli Dorn has spent fourteen years laughing along.

Then this year’s Tribute shows up wearing his face.

It knows the drink he only pours for himself after closing. It knows the scar under his chin. It knows the childhood name nobody calls him anymore.

And it says it’s next year’s costume.

As the night wears on, Eli’s friends begin forgetting which one is really him. His sister stops recognizing his voice. His own memories start contradicting the evidence in front of him.

By midnight, Eli finally understands what the Tribute really does.

It doesn’t predict who dies.

It chooses.

And if Eli wants to keep his name, his life, and everyone who still knows his face, someone else will have to wear it instead.

Hallowfield keeps its own.

Jesse Corwin comes home to bury the last piece of their old life, sell their grandmother’s house, and leave before the town can get its hooks back into them.

Then the dead start leaving threads behind.

A childhood friend has vanished from photographs, records, and memory. A sealed room in the abandoned mill is warm from the inside. And beneath everything, something ancient is still weaving, quietly deciding what Hallowfield remembers and what it can afford to lose.