William wanted, very badly, to go look at the items on the lawn. He practically itched with the desire to catalog and study, to make this make sense, but he couldn't lose himself in this. He couldn't leave Spencer.
"I'll follow you," he promised. The dream was pulling at him with its urgency and desperation; he fought it and pulled himself forward, turning his focus from the children's frightened crying and the shouts of the staff. "Wherever you need to go."