Billy's gone.
Ruby Buckley's world ended with him.
But Hawkins isn't done with her yet.
When strange deaths begin again, Ruby is pulled into the heart of the storm. Between shadowy nightmares, the town's newest outcast, and someone she was never s...
( songs for the chapter ) about you // the 1975 sparks // coldplay
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aftershock noun af·ter·shock ˈaf-tər-ˌshäk an aftereffect of a distressing or traumatic event.
They were all quiet now.
Max still sat cradled in Lucas's arms, Ruby's hand tangled in hers. Dustin had shifted closer, cross-legged in front of them, his palm resting lightly on Max's knee. His face was pale, soft with worry.
No one spoke.
Time didn't seem to move. None of them could tell how long it had been since they'd escaped that place, seconds, minutes, years.
Ruby drew in a slow, shaky breath through her nose. Steve's hands were warm where they rested at the small of her back, anchoring her. She was still half in his lap, her head tucked against his collarbone. He leaned down, chin brushing the top of her head, and pulled her a little closer, like he could keep her there through sheer will.
Her eyelids were heavy, but she forced them open.
The sun had slipped away, leaving a bruised sky behind, blue fading into rose, rose melting into violet. She lifted her gaze toward it, because she couldn't help herself. The sight always calmed her.
The soft lilac of dusk rolled out above them like a velvet blanket. She thought, absently, that there must be entire poems written about this color, about the brief, aching peace of it. The kind that makes you forget, for just a heartbeat, everything that's broken.
People said sunsets were romantic. Maybe the most overused metaphor in history. But, God, they were right. There was something miraculous about the exchange of light, the way one sun bowed out while the other side of the world borrowed its warmth, and the moon, pale and patient, rose to take its place. For a moment, the two shared the sky, day and night in perfect balance.
In another world, this moment would be perfect. Peaceful. She'd be curled against Steve's chest, surrounded by some of her favorite people, Max, Lucas, Dustin, and that would be enough.
If only she hadn't just almost died.
If only she hadn't just watched Max nearly die, too.
If only they weren't sitting over the grave of the man she loved, whom she missed like a phantom limb.
If only their lives weren't still dangling by a thread.
But right now, wrapped in a haze of shock and adrenaline, it almost felt like peace. Like the universe was giving them this single breath before the next storm.
