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THE LAST THING AMARA EXPECTED even after a whirlwind of stained glass, defective clocks, blinking lights, and exploding lights, was for someone to pound against the door to the Wheeler household after midnight. The group had all agreed that they were exhausted from the day's events and couldn't hope to defeat Vecna without recuperating for the night, so they had retreated to their chosen headquarters and resumed watch over Max (this time Dustin was first). But it was during Amara's watch that the commotion not only startled her out of the precipice of unconsciousness but jolted Nancy and Robin awake, confusion evident in their countenances.
"Holy shit," Robin gasped, peering out Nancy's window despite her grogginess. "It's Shaelynn."
"Wait, really?" Nancy raised her eyebrows quizzically, following Robin's line of sight. Indeed, Shaelynn was on the doorstep, her bike discarded on the lawn. Nancy had been slightly bewildered when she hadn't met up with them at the Creel house after Chrissy's funeral as she signified she would, but assumed she'd be back tomorrow morning. Not in the middle of the night. "What's she doing here this late?"
"Beats me," Amara mumbled, glancing around the room to gauge if anyone else had woken up. But it was just the three of them who were. "We should let her in, though. There has to be a reason she's here."
Nancy had seemingly realized the same thing. She diverted her gaze from the window and faced Amara and Robin. "Umm... you two go let her in, alright? I'll keep an eye on Max."
"Okay."
Robin and Amara descended the stairway, the latter thinking back to Nancy's comment earlier during the day about how although Nancy and Robin could now be classified as friends, there was still unresolved tension between her and Shaelynn from their miscommunication and subsequent fallout. They took care not to wake Mr. Wheeler, who had fallen asleep while watching a news broadcast of the recent murders, as they approached the front hall. Amara unlocked the front door, wincing as it creaked, where she and Robin were met with a visibly distraught Shaelynn.
"I'm – I'm so sorry for disturbing you this late at night," Shaelynn rushed out. In the moonlight, Amara could make out the tear stains on her cheekbones. "I feel so stupid, I should've at least called first – "
"Hey, it's okay," Amara cut her off, ushering her inside. Shaelynn did so reluctantly, bending down to untie her battered converse. "How was the funeral?"
"You didn't miss much. If that's what you're wondering," Robin rambled before she could stop herself, unsure of how she could help Shaelynn feel better; comfort wasn't her strong suit other than when it came to Amara. What Robin didn't know was that even after a mere few days, all she had to do was be herself. "I mean, unless you count finding out Vecna's location, and our flashlights exploding – "
"Patrick's gone," Shaelynn revealed, still reeling from the night's events. Amara's face paled – so Vecna had indeed killed a third traumatized individual as they had presumed, but Shaelynn had been the one to witness the brutality he was capable of as it happened. "I tried to save him, but I couldn't. It's my fault Vecna got him."
