The prologue opens with a description of the secret graveyard on the north side of the Nickel reform school campus, a once‑grazing field between the old work barn and the school dump. The land, formerly a dairy pasture, had been slated for a commercial lunch plaza, but the discovery of buried bodies halted the developers’ plans and forced the state attorney’s office to launch a new inquiry to identify the victims and determine cause of death. A University of South Florida archaeology student named Jody notices “the dirt looked wrong” and alerts her crew. Jody, along with other archaeology students, begins a systematic excavation of the school’s official cemetery—locally called Boot Hill—using stakes, wire grids, shovels, and heavy equipment. As they sift the soil, they uncover bones, belt buckles, soda bottles, and a field of white concrete crosses marked with X’s; some crosses bear names, others are blank. The school records, though incomplete, allow the team to match some remains (e.g., a boy named Willie from 1954) and DNA testing links several bodies to living relatives. Of the forty‑three bodies found, seven remain unnamed. After the students pile the crosses into a mound, someone later smashes the crosses into dust, underscoring the site’s vulnerability. Professor Carmine, the students’ mentor, confirms Jody’s find—a small bone flute likely from a raccoon—and points out the unusually fractured skulls and buckshot‑riddled rib cages, suggesting foul play beyond the known 1921 dormitory fire. Cadaver‑sniffing dogs and radar imaging later verify a second, unmarked burial area with no crosses or names, only bones waiting to be discovered. The students share their findings with former Nickel Boys and their families, prompting a local Tallahassee TV station to send a reporter. The national press picks up the story, broadcasting disturbing footage of the decaying mess hall, football field, and other school areas, painting Nickel as a haunted, brutal institution. In the years following the school’s closure, former students form support groups, meet in diners and at home kitchens, and conduct “phantom archaeology” to piece together their shared trauma. Big John Hardy, a retired carpet salesman from Omaha, maintains an online site tracking Nickel news, fundraising for a memorial, and posting reunion reports. Annual reunions (now in their fifth year) bring together aging former Nickel Boys, including Elwood Curtis, a man living in New York who avoids the reunions but monitors developments online. The chapter ends with Elwood recalling the moment he learned of the secret graveyard, feeling compelled to return despite his distance, and a vivid image of cedars, a TV reporter’s shoulder, and the scorching heat of the Florida air—a reminder that the past remains ever present.