In Genoa City, the fall festival at Chancellor Park, usually a warm and festive gathering, became a scene charged with tension and fear for the Newman-Lawson family. Adam Newman, wrapped in his scarf and scanning the crowd anxiously, wasn’t looking for threats but for his son, Connor. The boy, small and hesitant, hovered near the pumpkin-carving station, a knife in his hand. Chelsea Lawson, standing close to Adam, offered quiet reassurance, though her own hands were knotted with anxiety. The controlled exposure to the crowd, recommended by Dr. Alcott, was meant to help Connor—but something felt deeply wrong.
Suddenly, Connor dropped the carving tool with a clatter that sounded like a gunshot to Adam. His son’s eyes locked onto a shadowy figure near the old oak trees: a man in a nondescript charcoal coat, standing perfectly still, his face partly obscured but for a fleeting glimpse of a scar or hardened jawline. Connor screamed—a sound of pure terror that cut through the festival chatter—and clutched his chest, hyperventilating. “The bad man,” he gasped. “He’s really here.” Adam spun, but the figure was gone, leaving only swirls of dry leaves.
Back at the Newman-Lawson household, night had fallen, but sleep was elusive. Connor thrashed in bed, tangled in sheets, murmuring, “No, don’t stop him,” while Chelsea tried to soothe him, damp cloth in hand. Adam, standing in the doorway, whispered to himself about Connor’s OCD, but Chelsea noted that this was different. “He’s terrified of a person,” she said. Connor’s fear was specific: he had “the eyes” of someone he had seen at the park. The boy’s description—“the dead eyes”—sent chills down Adam and Chelsea’s spines, hinting at a presence far more sinister than imagined.
Two days later, Connor’s obsession had taken shape in charcoal sketches strewn across the living room floor. Each drawing depicted a jagged, hollow-eyed man, meticulously detailed, often in front of recognizable Genoa City landmarks like the old Crimson Lights coffeehouse. Connor whispered that the man was “waiting for the blonde lady—the sad one,” prompting Adam and Chelsea to realize that Sharon Newman was the target. The sketches confirmed their fears: this was no child’s fantasy, but a precise, haunting recollection.
When Adam, Chelsea, Nick, and Sharon examined the drawings at Crimson Lights, the truth struck them like lightning. The man Connor had seen was Matt Clark, thought dead years ago but recently revealed to be alive under the alias Mitch Beall. Matt had resurfaced in Genoa City, and his terrifying presence was calculated: he aimed to psychologically manipulate the Newman family, starting with the most vulnerable—Connor. The reunion of past trauma and present danger painted a chilling picture.
Adam formulated a plan: rather than alert security, which would drive Matt underground, they would stage Connor’s removal as a psychological ploy, luring Matt into overconfidence. Meanwhile, Chelsea stayed close to Connor, comforting him while Adam patrolled the house. When the lights flickered, Matt appeared by the circuit breaker, wielding wire cutters and a lighter. His confrontation with Adam escalated into a physical struggle, punctuated by Matt’s rage and decades of unresolved vengeance.
The fight reached its climax when Nick and Sharon intervened, with Sharon delivering a coldly measured final line: “You’re just a drawing… just a bad memory.” Matt was finally subdued, and the family breathed a collective sigh of relief. Connor, now asleep and finally calm, had managed to “draw the bad man away,” channeling his fear into sketches that became both warning and protection. Adam and Chelsea understood that confronting Matt had forced them to face not only the present threat but also unresolved elements of their past, reminding them that some ghosts never truly disappear.
The ordeal left lingering questions: what exactly had Connor seen, and why had Matt fixated on him? Chelsea feared that Matt’s return had awakened something in Connor, a reflection of the emotional instability Matt once exhibited. Adam sensed fragments of Chelsea’s past pain but didn’t grasp its full depth. The reunion with Matt had revealed that Connor carried a secret, something that terrified him beyond ordinary fear, and the family realized that this secret’s revelation could forever alter their lives. For now, though, the immediate danger had passed, and for the first time in days, Connor could breathe freely, while the Newman-Lawson family faced the future with vigilance and unity, aware that their shared trauma had drawn them closer but also left them vulnerable to whatever shadows lingered next.
