What We Buried, What We Grew

Joni Henderson was never meant to stay long: just a winter layover in freezing Hawkins, Christmas 1985. Baby cousin-sitting, dodging drama, counting down the days until California's sun and salt called her back.

Then there was Eddie Munson.

Town freak. Dungeon Master. Wild grin behind the wheel of a rust-bucket van. And hopelessly, stupidly smitten with a certain Henderson cousin.

They both knew these things don't last, expecially when they're good. She was headed west, and he was stuck exactly where he'd always been. But sometimes, a fling doesn't fold away neatly with the Christmas lights.

Before the darkness swallowed him.

Before she realised she wasn't leaving alone.

Before the world they almost built cracked open into something far bigger.

Sure, this is a love story.

But it's not exactly a happy one.

Still. Happiness can be found in the dark, like little shards of sunshine.