⸻ ❛𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐎𝐒!❜
Rory Hargrove is obsessed to uncover the truth behind Barbara Holland's disappearance, while facing her brother's enemy and buried secrets from...
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ANOTHER DEATH. The rising wail of police sirens screamed bad news, cutting through the still air as they sped down a straight road flanked by vibrant, leafy springtime woods.
Aurora didn't need anyone to tell her what it meant. Her instincts were already whispering to her heart — the steady pace at which new bodies kept turning up wasn't just a string of bad luck. It was a pattern. One that wasn't about to stop anytime soon. And that was terrifying — especially since they still didn't even know what exactly connected the victims.
"You're saying this thing that killed Fred and Chrissy... it's from the Upside Down?" Nancy Wheeler's voice barely carried across the wooden table where the group sat gathered. Rory sat directly across from her and had already taken in the details: the high-heeled boots, the subtle eyeshadow, the always-on-point outfit. Rory couldn't help but be impressed — Nancy looked like a damn fashion icon, even with all this horror unfolding around them.
A cool breeze drifted through, rustling their hair and cooling overheated minds buzzing with theories and fear.
Nancy had been hit by Hawkins' curse once again. The first time, it was Barb. Now, it was Fred — a coworker, a friend. And somehow, Nancy always managed to dodge the worst of it, slipping through the cracks. Thank God. They were all survivors in their own weird way.
"Yeah. It's what makes the most sense," Rory said, leaning forward, elbows resting on the table. "I know it sounds like we're just blaming the same crazy stuff every time, but honestly? I don't think it's a stretch to connect the dots."
"Our working theory is that he attacks with some kind of spell. Or a curse," Dustin added.
Rory glanced at Max. The girl looked distracted, but not in a distant way — more like she was trying really hard to stay still. Trying not to throw up. It was a lot to take in. People were being murdered — brutally — practically every other day now.
"All we know is... this is something different."
"Something new," Nancy echoed, brain racing, trying to form connections. But none of it clicked. "It doesn't make sense."
"It's just a theory—"
"No. Fred and Chrissy don't make sense. I mean... why them?"
"Maybe they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time?" Rory said, frowning. The sunlight caught her lashes as she squinted slightly, deep in thought. "But what if they had something in common? Something that made them both targets?"
