chapter one. the vanishing of will byers

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐘 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋, seemingly trivial events may ultimately result in something with much larger consequences.

Imagine a butterfly, delicate and weightless, fluttering its wings in a quiet meadow on the edge of the world. That single, fragile movement seems insignificant, but it sends a ripple through the air — a tremor so faint that only the universe itself can feel it. The ripple travels far beyond the meadow, carried by winds and storms, over mountains and oceans, until it reaches a distant shore, where it crashes like a wave against reality.

And there, on that distant shore, everything changes.

It could be a decision you make, something as simple as turning left instead of right, or a sentence left unsaid, hanging in the air. But the consequences don’t end with you. They spiral outward, like a stone dropped into water. The tiniest of choices sets off a chain of events that could alter the lives of people you’ve never met, in places you’ll never see.

Elizabeth twirled around the small kitchen, her movements light, almost carefree. Her feet barely touched the worn linoleum floor as she spun, lost in the rhythm of the music pulsing through her Walkman. The soft beat and familiar melody blended with her quiet humming, her voice a whisper that danced along with the sunlight streaming through the window. The dust motes caught in the golden beams moved lazily, unaware of the storm brewing just beyond the horizon of Elizabeth’s day.

She had no idea her entire world was about to come crashing down.

Jonathan stood at the stove, his brow furrowed in concentration, a stark contrast to his sister's dancing. His hands moved methodically as he stirred the scrambled eggs in the pan, his mind clearly elsewhere. He was the anchor to Elizabeth’s fleeting joy, his steady presence both reassuring and grounding. But even Jonathan had no clue what was coming — no clue that the quiet, mundane morning they were sharing was teetering on the edge of chaos.

Elizabeth had resisted at first when Jonathan insisted on making breakfast. It wasn’t part of their usual routine, and she clung to routine these days. But she relented. The change was a relief, even a small one, especially after the strain of the night before.

She had gone out with her friends for the first time since the breakup. It had taken all her courage to step out of her safe space, but once she was there, surrounded by laughter and familiar faces, it felt... good. Like maybe she could forget the heaviness that had settled in her chest for a while. The rules, the routines, the endless days of pretending everything was okay — they slipped away for those few hours. And now, in the soft glow of the morning, that lightness still lingered. She let herself hold onto it for just a little longer.

“Where the hell are they?” Joyce’s voice cut through the tranquility, sharp with frustration. She rummaged through the living room, her movements quick and frantic, the calm of the morning unraveling with each passing second. The keys, always the keys, seemed to vanish at the worst times.

Jonathan glanced over his shoulder, his voice loud enough to pierce through Elizabeth’s headphones. “Check the couch!” he called out, his tone even but familiar with this routine. This wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“Ugh, I did,” Joyce muttered under her breath, but her determination didn’t falter as she plunged her hand deeper into the couch cushions. A second later, there was a pause — a moment of relief. “Oh... got them.” The sound of her keys jingling filled the air, the faintest hint of triumph in her voice.

Elizabeth didn’t stop twirling as Joyce entered the kitchen, but she slowed, watching her mom from the corner of her eye. Joyce was already halfway out the door, grabbing her bag and jacket from the table with a hurried energy that seemed to buzz around her.

"Okay, kids, I will see you tonight," Joyce said, her voice brisk but warm, the kind of warmth that comes from years of being stretched thin but still managing to hold everything together.

"Yeah, see you later," Elizabeth echoed, her smile softening as she watched her mother.

Jonathan gave a nod, still focused on breakfast. "Where's Will?" Joyce asked, her brow furrowed as her gaze swept the small kitchen, as if expecting her youngest to appear from thin air.

"Oh, we didn’t get him up yet," Jonathan replied without missing a beat. "He’s probably still sleeping."

"You have to make sure he's up!" Joyce insisted, her voice tight with urgency.

"Mom, we're making breakfast," Jonathan replied, a trace of exasperation in his tone. He flicked his eyes toward Elizabeth, who was now sitting at the table, her Walkman hanging around her neck. There was a quiet in the room that hadn't been there just moments before, a stillness that seemed to thicken the air.

Joyce, not satisfied, shot a glance down the hallway before turning back to them. She was already halfway out of the kitchen, her steps quick and sharp. "He came home last night, right?" she asked as she returned, brows knitted in confusion, the edges of panic creeping into her voice.

Jonathan stirred the eggs again, slower this time, his gaze faltering. "He's not in his room?" Elizabeth asked, her stomach twisting as she stood, tossing the Walkman onto the table with a clatter. The carefree rhythm from earlier had evaporated, replaced by a knot of worry tightening in her chest.

"Did he come home or not?" Joyce's voice cracked, her calm fraying. She was looking at both of them now, searching for reassurance — something they couldn't give her.

Elizabeth didn't answer. Instead, she brushed past her mother, her feet moving on their own. She had to see for herself. Ignoring the question, she walked toward the hallway. Each step felt heavier than the last, the floor creaking beneath her weight like a whisper of foreboding. The hallway, which seemed so short earlier, now stretched out endlessly in front of her. Her heart pounded louder with every step, each thud echoing in her ears.

When she reached Will's door, her hand hesitated on the knob, a thousand fears swirling in her mind. She opened it slowly, her breath catching in her throat. The room greeted her with its stillness — a kind of emptiness that sent her mind reeling. The bed was unmade, blankets twisted in a careless mess, pillows scattered. The sight of it struck her like a blow to the chest.

Will wasn't there.

The panic that had been simmering beneath the surface now boiled over. Elizabeth spun around, her legs shaky as she rushed back down the hall, barely able to keep her voice steady. "He's not there," she announced, breathless, eyes wide with fear as they darted between her mother and brother. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest, the sound loud and suffocating. "I went out with Melanie and some of her friends after work. I — I was so tired last night, I just... I went straight to bed, I didn’t check on him..." Her words came out in a jumble, each one more panicked than the last. Her hand flew to her forehead, pressing hard as if she could somehow push away the rising tide of guilt that was threatening to drown her.

Joyce's eyes flickered with her own fears, but she was fighting to keep them in check. Nodding resolutely, she grabbed the phone, her hands trembling as she dialed. "I'll call Karen," she muttered.

Elizabeth and Jonathan stood frozen in the middle of the room, the tension thickening between them. They both stared at their mother, holding their breath, each passing second stretching unbearably long. Every tick of the clock on the wall felt like a hammer driving their anxiety deeper into their bones.

"Hi, Karen, it's Joyce." Her voice wavered ever so slightly as she tried to keep it steady, tried to keep the fear from spilling out. "Was that Will I heard back there?" Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, as though bracing herself for the answer she already knew was coming. "No?... Will didn’t spend the night?..." Joyce swallowed hard, her voice faltering as she forced out her next words. "Um, you know what? I think he just left early for — for school. Thank you so much. Bye."

Joyce hung up and stood there for a moment. Then, with a heavy sigh, her shoulders sagged, the weight of it all pressing down on her.

"He's not with Mike?" Elizabeth whispered, though deep down she already knew the answer. The silence that followed was deafening.

Joyce shook her head, her face a mix of helplessness and fear. "No," she whispered back, her voice breaking, eyes brimming with unshed tears. The panic she had been holding at bay was now clawing its way to the surface, and there was no stopping it.

Elizabeth’s heart clenched tighter, her breathing shallow as she raked a hand through her tangled hair. The mess of curls caught between her fingers, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t shake the growing dread gnawing at her insides, twisting her stomach into painful knots. Will was missing. The thought echoed in her mind, louder and louder, no matter how hard she tried to push it away.

Something terrible had happened. She could feel it.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐇'𝐒 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑, streaking her cheeks. Each breath she took was shallow, ragged, the cold autumn air burning her lungs. The once vibrant leaves beneath her feet, now dull and brittle, crunched lifelessly under each step. She moved without direction, her legs heavy, her mind clouded. Castle Byers loomed ahead, a symbol of happier times, but it offered no solace now. When the curtain doors parted, it was only her mother who stepped out, her face lined with the same despair that clutched at Elizabeth's heart.

"Will! Where are you?" Jonathan’s voice cut through the stillness, echoing off the barren trees. His desperation matched her own, though neither of them voiced it. The forest, once a place of adventure, had turned into something foreboding, the branches twisted and skeletal in the dim light, stripped of their leaves.

"Will!" Elizabeth’s voice cracked, hoarse from yelling. "Will!" She screamed again, louder this time, her throat burning from the strain. The wind picked up, sending a flurry of leaves swirling around her, but there was no answer. Her heart raced in her chest, panic spreading like wildfire through her veins.

She spun in circles, her eyes darting wildly, scanning the empty woods. Her vision blurred again, not from the tears this time, but from the dizziness overtaking her. It felt like the world was spinning with her, a disorienting blur of browns and yellows, branches clawing at the sky like skeletal fingers. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to steady herself, trying to breathe through the panic that was threatening to consume her.

Elizabeth stopped turning and took a shaky breath, fighting to swallow the lump lodged in her throat. When she opened her eyes, the forest seemed darker, the shadows lengthening as if to swallow her whole. She didn’t care about the cold biting at her skin or the ache in her legs. The only thing that mattered was finding Will. The only thing that mattered was not losing him.

She swallowed hard, her throat raw, and blinked back the tears threatening to spill again. Behind her, she could hear Jonathan still calling, his voice breaking as the urgency increased. But she knew, deep down, they were running out of time.

"Please, Will," she whispered, her voice trembling. The forest remained indifferent, its silence an unbearable weight on her chest.

𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐇'𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 "𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐄?" 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑, her hands trembling as she smoothed it out on the table. Her eyes lingered on the grainy picture of her brother, a ghost of a boy smiling back at her, unaware of the chaos he had unknowingly left in his wake. Next to her, Jonathan mirrored her actions, his thumb running over Will’s face on his own poster. Each movement felt slow, deliberate, like if they just touched the picture enough times, their brother might somehow be pulled back into reality.

The room buzzed with tension, the sharp clack of the phone’s receiver crashing into its base jolting them both. Joyce’s voice, thick with frustration and panic, cut through the air as she paced.

"Can you please... Who is this? ... Cynthia... Cynthia, this is Joyce. Lonnie's ex-wife. I really need to speak to him. Can you please put... No! No, not later, now. Can..." Her voice grew sharper, more frantic with every word. The call abruptly ended, and Joyce let out an angry scream, slamming the phone down with such force that it seemed to rattle the wall. "Bitch!"

"Mom!" Jonathan snapped, his voice cutting through the air as he looked up from his poster, his face a mixture of shock and weariness. He sounded more like an adult than the teenage boy he was, but then again, he’d been forced to grow up too fast.

Joyce whipped around to face him, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and helplessness. "What?" she spat, her voice teetering on the edge of hysteria.

"You have to stay calm," Jonathan said, his voice steady but firm, though the strain of the situation was visible in the tightness of his jaw. He wasn’t just speaking for her sake — he was trying to keep himself from unraveling, too.

Joyce let out a bitter laugh, her voice edged with sarcasm as she shook her head. She clutched the phone again, frantically dialing.

“Lonnie!” Her voice was shaking, louder now, more desperate. “Some teenager just hung up on me. Will is missing... I don’t know where he is. I need—please, just... call me back, damn it! Please.”

Jonathan lifted his head from the poster, his eyes scanning the window. Something was off. “Mom?” he asked, his voice quiet but tense.

“What?” Joyce muttered, not even looking up, her fingers clenching the fabric of her sweater.

“Cops,” Jonathan said softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he nodded toward the window.

Elizabeth’s heart skipped a beat. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she glanced at Jonathan before they all exchanged a quick, panicked look. Without a word, they bolted to the door, their footsteps heavy with dread.

Hopper’s truck was parked in front of the house, and as they stepped outside, their hearts dropped. Hopper was standing by the trunk, his face grim, holding something in his hands. Elizabeth’s breath caught in her throat as her eyes locked onto the familiar shape. Will’s bike.

Her knees felt weak, and she clutched the edge of her sweater, her fingers trembling as if the fabric was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

Hopper glanced up at them, his expression unreadable but serious. He looked tired, like he was already preparing them for the worst.

The air felt heavy, suffocating. Elizabeth’s chest tightened as she struggled to breathe, her mind racing. Will wouldn’t just leave his bike. He wouldn’t just disappear.

Once inside the house, the tension was thick enough to cut through. Joyce’s voice cracked as she addressed Hopper, her hands shaking as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "It was just lying there?"

Hopper nodded solemnly. “Yeah.” He turned to his colleague, the gravity of the situation sinking in deeper. "Cal?"

“Does it have any blood on it, or…” Joyce’s voice cracked as she asked the question, her mind clearly veering into darker territory.

“No, no, no, no, no…” Hopper cut her off quickly, his voice steady as he tried to calm her down. “Phil?” he called out, motioning for his colleague to check the surrounding area as he moved through the house.

The three of them followed Hopper, tension rising with each step they took. The house suddenly felt too small, every creak of the floorboards and every shadow out of place making Elizabeth more uneasy.

Jonathan finally voiced the question that had been building in all their minds. “If you found the bike out there, why are you here?” There was an edge to his voice, a mix of frustration and desperation.

Hopper glanced back, his face thoughtful but determined. “Well, he had a key to the house, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So… maybe he came home,” Hopper suggested.

Joyce’s eyes flashed with anger. “You think I didn’t check my own house?” Her voice was sharp, the words biting as she crossed her arms tightly across her chest.

“I’m not saying that,” Hopper replied calmly, his eyes scanning the room as if looking for something out of place. His gaze settled on a small dent in the wall near the back door. “Has this always been here?”

Joyce blinked, her frustration momentarily giving way to confusion. “What? I don’t know. Probably. I mean, I have three kids. Look at this place,” she rambled, waving a hand at the cluttered space.

“You’re not sure?” Hopper pressed, his eyes narrowing as he crouched closer to inspect the dent. It wasn’t much, but in a situation like this, even the smallest detail could mean something.

Their conversation was interrupted by Chester's continuous barking outside. Hopper headed outside to investigate, with Joyce following closely behind.

Before Joyce could answer, Chester’s barking suddenly echoed from outside, his frantic yelps cutting through the conversation. Hopper immediately straightened up and headed toward the door, Joyce trailing behind him. The tension in the room shifted, a new sense of urgency taking hold.

Elizabeth, who had been following their every move, felt her legs give out as she sank into one of the kitchen chairs. Her hands trembled as she pressed her palms against her face, trying to suppress the wave of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. Fear, helplessness, guilt — it was all consuming her.

Jonathan quietly moved to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder. His touch was gentle but firm, grounding her when she felt like she was spiraling. She lifted her head, meeting his gaze. His eyes were red, exhaustion and worry etched into his face.

They sat there in the suffocating silence, waiting, hoping, and praying that Chester’s barking would lead to something—anything. But all Elizabeth could think about was that empty space in her brother’s room, the bed that hadn’t been slept in, and the sinking feeling that Will was far from safe.

𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓, the pale beam slicing through the black void but offering little comfort. Her heart thundered in her chest, each thud resonating in her ears as if it were the only sound left in the world. Despite walking among a large search party, the steady shuffle of boots on the leaves, the murmured voices — she felt utterly and completely alone.

The chill of the night air bit into her skin, seeping through the thin fabric of her jacket, but it was nothing compared to the icy dread that coiled in her stomach. Her eyes darted nervously, scanning the shadows between the trees, the branches looming over her like silent sentinels. Every rustle of leaves, every creak of wood, sent her heart into her throat. Will could be out there somewhere — cold, lost, scared — and the thought made her throat tighten painfully.

She remained quiet as she moved through the woods, only offering short, distracted responses to the occasional reassurances people tossed her way. "We'll find him," they would say, but their words felt empty, as hollow as the echo of her own footsteps. Their attempts at comfort only sharpened the edges of her fear, and she swallowed back the rising panic threatening to overtake her.

Her flashlight trembled in her grip, and she forced herself to move more slowly, methodically. She swept the light across the underbrush in long, deliberate arcs, trying to convince herself that they would find something — anything — that would lead them to Will. Her mind was consumed with worst-case scenarios, each one more terrifying than the last. What if he’s hurt? What if he’s lost deeper in the woods, somewhere they hadn’t even searched yet? What if... what if he’s gone for good?

Elizabeth shook her head, trying to chase away the dark thoughts clawing at the edges of her mind. She had to focus. Will was out there, and he needed her. She couldn’t let herself fall apart.

As she moved deeper into the woods, the beam of her flashlight flickering over the dense thickets of trees, her heart suddenly lurched in her chest. She froze, her breath catching in her throat as her light landed on a familiar face — one she hadn't expected to see in the middle of these woods.

Trevor.

The world seemed to tilt for a moment, the sight of him sending a jolt of something painful through her. Memories rushed back like a flood: the arguments, the accusations, the dramatic breakup that had left her feeling more shattered than she'd ever admitted to anyone. She’d spent months building a wall around herself, determined not to think about him, to move on. And now, here he was — of all places — at the worst possible time.

Elizabeth’s pulse quickened, but she forced herself to push the emotions back. She squared her shoulders, steeling herself, and walked toward him with purposeful steps. She couldn’t let him see how much he still affected her. Not now.

"Oh, hi, Liz," Trevor said, his voice infuriatingly nonchalant. That same careless smirk tugged at his lips, the one that used to make her heart flutter but now only made her stomach churn.

Her jaw clenched, her nails digging into the palm of her hand as she fought to maintain her composure. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice sharper than she intended, cutting through the tension that hung between them.

"I heard about what happened to Will. Just wanted to help," he replied with a casual shrug, as if this was all normal, as if they were still on speaking terms.

Elizabeth crossed her arms tightly in front of her chest, her eyes narrowing. She didn’t trust him. Not anymore. "I appreciate that, Trevor, I really do. But I thought I told you to stay the hell away from me," she bit out, her frustration bubbling to the surface. She was too tired, too scared to play nice, and the tension in her voice drew the attention of a few nearby searchers.

Trevor’s expression hardened. His easygoing facade cracked, and in an instant, his hand shot out, gripping her forearm tightly. Elizabeth winced, her breath catching in her throat as she felt his fingers dig into her skin. "I told you, I’m here to help. Don’t make a scene like you always do," he growled, his voice low and dangerous, sending a chill down her spine.

The way he looked at her — eyes flashing with barely contained anger — made her feel small, like she had before. Like she was being backed into a corner. But she wasn’t the same person she had been when they were together. She wouldn’t let him intimidate her.

Before she could wrench her arm free or say anything in response, a beam of light cut through the darkness. Hopper appeared beside them, his flashlight trained on their faces. "We have a problem here, kids?" he asked, his tone calm but edged with authority. His eyes flicked between them, narrowing slightly as he took in the scene.

Trevor’s grip loosened instantly, and he quickly plastered on a smile, all traces of the venom from moments before disappearing. "No, Sheriff. Everything’s alright. Right, Liz?" he said smoothly, releasing her arm and stepping back.

Elizabeth forced a nod, though her insides twisted with a mixture of anger and humiliation. She wanted to say something, to tell Hopper what had just happened, but the words caught in her throat. She didn’t want to cause any more drama, not tonight. Not when Will was still out there.

Hopper seemed to consider them for a moment longer, his gaze lingering on Trevor before he gave a nod. "Good. Let’s keep moving," he said, clapping Trevor on the back in a way that made Elizabeth flinch.

As Hopper moved on, Trevor shot her a final glance — a mixture of annoyance and something darker — before turning to follow him, leaving Elizabeth standing alone in the darkness once more.

Elizabeth remained frozen in place, her lip quivering as she watched the search party drift further ahead, their flashlights bobbing like distant stars in the vast, dark sea of the forest. Her breath came in shallow, shaky bursts, each one an effort to hold herself together. But the sting of Trevor’s grip on her arm lingered, a cruel reminder of how easily he could still rattle her.

The woods seemed to close in around her, the shadows pressing in tighter with each passing second, suffocating her under the weight of everything. It was too much — Will’s disappearance, the constant dread gnawing at her insides, and now Trevor, digging up memories she had buried deep for a reason.

With a heavy, defeated sigh, Elizabeth turned and began the long walk back home. Each step felt like a betrayal — like she was giving up on finding Will, like she was abandoning him out there in the cold, unforgiving darkness. But she knew staying would only make her unravel faster, and right now, she couldn’t afford that.

The night was eerily quiet. Her footsteps on the forest floor were the only sounds in the vast emptiness, each one a dull thud against the dry leaves. She crossed her arms tightly against her chest, more for comfort than warmth, and kept her gaze fixed on the ground in front of her. The winding path through the woods felt endless, the trees standing like sentinels, watching her every move.

Elizabeth’s mind was a swirling storm of emotion. Worry for Will gnawed at her constantly, a persistent ache in her heart that wouldn’t go away. The fear of what might have happened to him twisted her stomach into knots, making it hard to breathe. But woven through that fear was the fresh sting of her encounter with Trevor. His sneering face, the way his fingers had dug into her arm, the cold anger in his voice — it all replayed in her mind, over and over, until she felt like she might scream just to drown it out.

Why did he have to show up? Why tonight, of all nights?

She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as the familiar bitterness settled in her chest. He was supposed to be gone, out of her life. She had made sure of that. But now, when she needed all her focus on finding Will, Trevor had forced his way back into her mind like a parasite.

The road finally appeared through the thinning trees, a narrow strip of pavement stretching out before her like an invitation into the unknown. It was deserted, as usual for this time of night in Hawkins, and the stillness of it only added to the sense of isolation pressing down on her.

Elizabeth slowed her pace, her footsteps sounding unnaturally loud against the pavement. Her breath puffed out in front of her in soft clouds of mist, the chill in the air biting at her cheeks and fingers. She kept walking, her mind a mess of frantic thoughts, when suddenly the glare of headlights cut through the darkness behind her.

A sharp chill crawled down her spine. She didn’t turn around, didn’t dare to look at the approaching car. Instead, she just shook her head lightly, her pulse quickening as she picked up her pace. The light was growing brighter, closer, the low hum of the engine filling the silence around her.

The car came up beside her, slowing to a crawl. Elizabeth could feel its presence looming, the weight of it pressing against her like an invisible force. Her heart hammered in her chest, her skin prickling with a sense of danger she couldn’t quite shake. She shut her eyes tightly, willing herself to stay calm, to keep walking.

Then a voice broke through the tense quiet. "Hey, you need a ride home?"

Elizabeth’s eyes snapped open, her heart skipping a beat. She turned her head and saw Cameron leaning out the window, concern etched across his features. His familiar face was a welcome sight, a break in the storm of emotions that had been battering her all night.

A flood of relief washed over her, surprising in its intensity. It had been so long since she had seen him — her childhood best friend, someone she had once trusted with all her secrets. They’d drifted apart over the years, life pulling them in different directions. But right now, in the cold, dark emptiness of the night, she was more grateful than ever to see him.

Cameron waited patiently, his hand resting on the steering wheel as if he had all the time in the world. His presence was calming, steady, a far cry from the chaos swirling in her mind.

She weighed her options — continuing her walk down the road, alone and vulnerable, or accepting the ride from Cameron, someone who used to mean something to her. The rational part of her knew walking alone was risky, especially near where Will had disappeared. But trust was hard for her now, harder than it used to be.

Still, the sight of Cameron — his familiar warmth, the way he looked at her like he still cared — was enough to melt her apprehension, just a little.

With a heavy sigh, Elizabeth nodded softly. “Yeah… a ride would be good.”

As Cameron motioned for her to get inside the car, Elizabeth didn’t hesitate. She moved toward the passenger door, the cold air biting at her skin as she slipped into the seat. The familiar warmth of the car washed over her, but it did little to ease the growing knot of anxiety in her chest.

The silence between them was thick and awkward, hanging in the air as they drove down the dark, empty road. Elizabeth fidgeted nervously, her fingers twisting together in her lap. She could feel the tension pulsing between them, a quiet reminder of the distance that had grown over the years.

"You shouldn't be walking alone at night," Cameron finally said, his voice cutting through the quiet. He kept his eyes on the road, his tone firm but laced with concern. "Especially not after what happened to Will."

The mention of her little brother hit Elizabeth like a punch to the gut. Her throat tightened, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Where was Will? Was he scared? Hurt? The gnawing worry she had been trying to suppress all night resurfaced with brutal force.

"I know," she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

For a while, the only sound was the steady hum of the engine and the faint rustle of leaves outside. Cameron’s hands tightened around the steering wheel, his jaw clenched, but he seemed to be searching for the right words. After a beat, he spoke again, his voice softer this time. "We'll find him, Elizabeth. I promise. He couldn’t have gone far."

Elizabeth nodded, though she didn’t trust herself to speak. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. Cameron’s words were meant to comfort, but they only magnified the fear and guilt she was drowning in.

The car pulled up in front of the Byers' house, the dim porch light flickering in the distance. Elizabeth reached for the door handle, eager to escape the whirlwind of emotions she could barely keep in check. But before she could push the door open, she felt Cameron’s hand gently rest on her shoulder. The unexpected warmth of his touch sent a jolt through her, and her breath hitched in her throat.

"If you need anything," Cameron said quietly, his voice sincere, "even just to talk… I’m here for you. Anything you need."

For a moment, all Elizabeth could do was stare at his hand on her shoulder, the small act of kindness almost too much for her raw emotions to handle. When she finally looked up to meet his gaze, her eyes brimmed with unshed tears, but there was gratitude there too.

"I’ll see you around," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"See you around," Cameron echoed, his tone gentle, his eyes holding hers for a second longer before she turned away.

Elizabeth opened the door and stepped out into the cool night air, her feet heavy as she walked toward the front door. She didn’t look back at the car, didn’t dare to. The weight of everything pressed down on her shoulders, too much to bear.

The moment she entered the house, the noise of her family calling out to her was like a distant hum, barely registering as she caught sight of the burnt phone hanging limply by its cord. She knew she should care, should try to make sense of what was happening around her, but she couldn’t. It was like everything had turned to static, the world around her fading into the background as her emotions swallowed her whole.

Without a word, Elizabeth jogged down the hallway, her heart racing with every step. She reached her room and slammed the door behind her, her breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. The walls of her small room seemed to close in on her, the quiet too loud, too suffocating.

Sliding down to the floor, her back pressed against the door, Elizabeth finally let herself break. The tears came in a torrent, hot and uncontrollable as they streamed down her cheeks. Sobs wracked her body, her hands trembling as she buried her face in her knees.

The weight of everything — Will’s disappearance, the confrontation with Trevor, the long-forgotten connection with Cameron — came crashing down on her all at once, overwhelming her in a way she hadn’t expected. She had been holding it together for so long, trying to stay strong, but now, in the safety of her room, she couldn’t keep the floodgates closed any longer.

Alone in the darkness, Elizabeth let herself grieve, the quiet of the night swallowing her sobs as she cried for her brother, for herself, for everything that felt like it was falling apart.