Every town has its legends. I would know. I am one of them. I am the girl they tell campfire stories about. The “well-liked librarian” who was going places until she was kidnapped and eaten by the Ice Cream Man. I am the warning parents tell about the woman whose remains were never found… There’s so much more to my story than how I died. My name is Beverly Watkins. I was twenty-seven years old the day I perished at the hands of a serial killer. For more than a year, Master Jimmie kept me in his favorite freezer and took me out for weekly playdates. I was the cherry on top of his twisted ice cream sundae; the Thing he called Fifteen. It’s only the beginning to my story. You see, justice is haunting. And tonight, I’m in the mood for it. I’m here to set the record straight, to make sure all the facts are tied up in perfect yellow bows like the ones they tied around trees for me. I won’t rest until I’ve told my own story, my way. Which reminds me: I have a visit to make. Care to join me?