Clarity, It's a few days after the events with Cinch at Bill's camp. You're a few hours walk from Monroe, deep in the woods on a path that's been growing over since time immemorial — but the occasional clump of cracked asphalt tells you you're on the right path. The past tends to leave a trail of breadcrumbs, if you know how what to look for.
I don't know how much faith you placed into the rumors, but you spotted a rusted out car a few miles back, and you've got a little bit of time before you should head back for Monroe — if you care about getting back before sunset that is. Birds are chirping in the distance, and a cold wind is gently rustling through the trees. You can see a crumbled brick wall off in the distance, behind a field where tree saplings are only now starting to grow. You approach the field, and find a chain-link fence rusted and felled to the ground.
Why did you come out here anyway, Clarity?