MORGAN'S BICYCLE WAS SITTING in the back of a dark blue pick-up truck parked on the other side of Jonathan's car. The truck hadn't been there when they had first arrived and Birdie didn't recognize it as either of Morgan's parents', but she knew it was Morgan's bicycle. It even had the same scratch underneath the seat from when Morgan had crashed into a tree in the eighth grade.

"Everything okay?" Jonathan asked, turning his head to follow Birdie's line of sight.

"That's Morgan's bicycle," Birdie answer, careful to keep her voice low in case whoever owned the truck was nearby. "She rode it to my house the night she went missing."

Jonathan's face paled as he did a double-take. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"What should we do?"

Birdie's response was to climb into the passenger seat of Jonathan's car, shutting the door behind her. Jonathan lingered a moment, clearly confused, before he finally followed suit. He tried once more to ask Birdie what they should do after he sat in the driver's seat but she shushed him, her eyes tracking each and every person who walked by without even blinking. She was waiting to see who owned the truck.

Fortunately, they didn't have to wait long. A few minutes later, a middle-aged white man with a graying beard and oil-stained coveralls exited the hardware store and headed for the truck. Birdie had never seen the man before and he didn't seem like the type to hang around the Foster's. There could have been any number of reasons for why he had Morgan's bicycle, some more favorable than others, but no matter how it stacked up, something didn't feel right to Birdie.

"Jonathan, I'm going to need a huge favor from you," Birdie said at last, her eyes still glued to the truck.

"What?"

"Follow him."

Jonathan started his car without protest, throwing the flyers into the backseat. During the commotion, Birdie was too distracted to notice that the time on the clock read 3:17. She was late to meet the kids.

The truck pulled out of its parking spot and Jonathan attempted to follow after, but he was halted by oncoming traffic. Fortunately, the truck was stopped by a red light at the intersection, allowing Jonathan and Birdie to catch up before it got too far ahead.

"Keep a car or two between us," Birdie instructed as they continued to follow the truck out of downtown. Jonathan slowed down and allowed a car to merge in front of him but that car soon took an exit and they were right behind the truck again.

"Stay back a little farther," Birdie said. Jonathan tried but the truck was already going five miles under the speed limit. "Farther," Birdie repeated.

"I'm trying!" Jonathan replied, his patience wearing thin. They had just passed a sign that read, "You are now leaving Hawkins".

Jonathan slowed down to eight miles under the speed limit, angering the traffic behind them into passing. For the next several miles he was able to keep a vehicle or two between them but the route the truck was taking eventually led them onto a winding gravel road where it was just the three of them.

"Speed up a little," Birdie instructed.

Jonathan sped up.

"Slow down a little."

Jonathan slowed down.

"Not that slow!"

"Make up your mind!" Jonathan shouted, finally losing his patience. "Speed up or slow down?"

"I don't know, a happy medium!" Birdie retorted, waving her arms in exasperation. "We can't get too far behind or we'll lose him but we can't let him see us."

"He's probably already noticed us by now," Jonathan pointed out. Both stopped squabbling to watch the truck but if the man had spotted them, his driving didn't indicate any suspicions of being followed.

The farther they went, the less Birdie saw of civilization. When the truck finally turned in to a driveway it had been nearly three miles since Birdie had last seen a house. They were well and truly in the middle of nowhere.

"Now what?" Jonathan asked as they slowly crept past the man's driveway. Birdie was only able to catch a glimpse of what she assumed to be the man's house as they passed by. There were too many trees to get a clear view.

"Pull over here," Birdie ordered Jonathan, pointing to the side of the road after they had gone about a quarter mile past the driveway. The area they were in was thick with trees, so Jonathan's car was well hidden. Birdie opened the passenger side door and began to climb out.

"What are you doing?" Jonathan hissed.

"Just stay here and keep the car running," Birdie instructed. "I'll be right back."

"I don't think this is a good idea!" Jonathan exclaimed, but his words were cut off by the door slamming shut. Jonathan slapped his hands against the steering wheel in frustration, watching through the windshield as Birdie crept closer to the driveway.

Birdie began to cut through the trees when she got nearer, coming to a stop when the house was in view. If what she saw before her could even be called a house. The roof was missing several shingles and there were large patches of peeling paint on the sides. An assortment of trash and rusted machinery littered the yard, entangled with the overgrown grass. There were other vehicles in the driveway but they were in various states of disrepair, leading Birdie to presume that the man lived alone.

Birdie scanned the area for the man when movement from the front window caught her eye. The man was standing in front of the window, staring out into the yard before him. Birdie pressed herself flat behind a tree when his gaze swung in her direction, her heart thumping so loudly in her chest that she could hear it almost as clearly as she could hear her heavy breaths. When she finally worked up the bravery to peek around, she found that the man had shut the curtains, blocking her view of him.

Birdie found this odd. It wasn't a particularly sunny day and there were no neighbors within earshot. Why would he feel the need to shut the curtains, not only for the front window, but for every other window as well? While this unnerved her, it also provided her an opportunity. She couldn't see him but he also couldn't see her, which meant that she could snoop without him knowing.

Birdie was careful to remain low and to keep close to anything she could use as cover in case the man decided to open the curtains again. She picked her way through the maze that was the front yard, nearly tripping over several unrecognizable items embedded in the dirt, when she came to what looked to be the remnants of a burn pit.

The contents were hard to decipher since everything had been reduced to a chalky ash but there was a pop of color that caught Birdie's eye. Using a stick she found on the ground nearby, she prodded the coals until the object was loose enough for her to grab. Upon closer examination, it looked and felt to be a piece of fabric. What it belonged to was hard to say because the edges were singed and most of it looked to have burned up in the fire but the faded yellow color sparked a sense of familiarity in Birdie. When Birdie flipped it over, she understood why.

A single word was printed on the back: "sturgery".

This man not only had Morgan's bicycle, but a scrap of the very same shirt that Morgan had been wearing the day she went missing.

Panicked, Birdie stumbled backwards and accidentally knocked over an old metal trashcan. The sound as it clattered against a rusted engine block sitting beside it echoed like a gunshot. Birdie's eyes immediately darted to the curtains hanging in the front window but she didn't stick around long enough to see if they opened. The piece of fabric gripped tightly in her fist, Birdie took off running through the trees.

Birdie didn't pause to see if anybody was following her, she continued in a straight line towards Jonathan's car, her feet pumping so hard that she accidentally overshot the passenger's side.

"Go, go, go go, go!" Birdie shouted after she threw herself into the car and slammed the door shut. She watched the trees for any movement, her heart hammering in her chest every time the breeze blew the leaves.

Jonathan stared at her in bewilderment. "What the hell happened?"

"JUST DRIVE, DAMMIT!"

Jonathan didn't need to be told a third time. Pressing down on the gas pedal, he whipped a U-turn, leaving only a puff of smoke and two skid marks to indicate that they had ever been there.

"Okay, you've got to tell me what's going on or I swear to God I'm going to pull over right here and throw my keys into the woods," Jonathan demanded after they had made it about a mile away from the man's house.

Birdie stared down at the piece of fabric in her hand. Just like with Morgan's bicycle, something didn't feel right about its presence at the man's house. "I-I don't know," Birdie answered, attempting to catch her breath. "I found this in that man's burn pit. It's part of the shirt that Morgan was wearing the day she went missing." Birdie unfurled her grip to show Jonathan the remains of Morgan's shirt and his eyes widened.

Jonathan's foot instinctively pressed down harder on the gas pedal. "We need to tell the police."

Birdie nodded her head in agreement but her head was swimming with doubts. They were still twenty minutes away from the Hawkins Police Department and even farther from a phone. Luck was on their side, however, because they didn't need to go that far. They came across a state trooper parked on the side of the gravel road about five minutes away from the man's house and immediately pulled over.

"Hey, hey!" Birdie shouted as she banged on the trooper's window. The officer just stared at her between bites of a sandwich as she mimed cranking the window down. When he finally finished swallowing, he obliged.

"What?" he asked, his tone sharp. He clearly wasn't happy about being interrupted during his lunch break but Birdie didn't care. She was about to rip the sandwich out of his hands and smash it underneath her foot.

"You need to call this in," Birdie began, her words punctuated by attempts to catch her breath. "Morgan Foster. She's missing. I found this at this man's house down the road." Birdie thrust the crumpled piece of fabric through the window. "It's part of the shirt she was wearing the day she went missing. He had that in his burn pit and he has her bicycle in the back of his truck."

"Where?" the officer asked, a bit more lively after hearing this piece of news.

"On the right about three miles down this road. The house is white but the paint is peeling and there's a shit-load of junk in the yard." Birdie paused to recall if she had seen a house number and one vaguely came to mind. "I think the house number was 2155 or something like that."

The officer nodded his head. "I know the one. We've been there a couple times in past years."

"So you'll go check it out right now?"

The officer sighed and reached for his radio. "This is Officer Williams, I'm going to 2155 Birch Lake Road to look into a possible 10-57," he informed dispatch. "Remain on stand-by for back-up."

After collecting Birdie's contact information, Officer Williams flashed his lights and took off down the road. Birdie rejoined Jonathan in his car but when he moved to shift the gear into drive, Birdie stopped him.

"Not yet," Birdie informed him. In a much softer voice, she added, "Please."

Officer Williams had instructed her to go home but she couldn't bring herself to leave, just as she couldn't bring herself to move any closer. She was stuck.

Birdie sat and watched through the windshield, oblivious to everything except the stretch of road before her. Jonathan? Who? Time? No clue. How absolutely peeved her dad was going to be when she arrived home late? Inconsequential. For the following thirty-three minutes she existed in a bubble. And then the blaring of sirens and the flashing of lights popped it.

Four squad cars went screaming past them, heading in the direction of the man's house. Birdie clenched the door handle, her right knee bouncing up and down. The additional police presence meant that Birdie was right but it also meant that something was very, very wrong.

"Shit," Jonathan muttered, his body tensing. Everything was suddenly becoming very real. He turned to look at Birdie, his face pale. "When you were there, did you see anything that could have been Will's?"

Birdie shook her head. "I mean, I didn't get a good look around...but no, I--I don't think so."

Forty-seven minutes passed by and Birdie and Jonathan were still sitting in the same spot when another vehicle drove past them. This one wasn't in as  much of a rush as the squad cars had been, and at first, Birdie thought it was just somebody who lived in the area but the black paint and the elongated trunk proved otherwise.

It was the coroner.

Birdie should have been hyperventilating but she was unusually calm, almost like she was detached from the reality in front of her. And she was still calm when twenty-nine minutes later, the coroner returned with the squad cars in tow. She even remained calm when she caught the eyes of the man with the truck sitting in the back of the first squad car, his hands cuffed.

Something didn't feel right. This wasn't the way things were supposed to go.

"Hey, hey," Officer Williams called out, drawing her attention by tapping on Birdie's window. He had parked his squad car off to the side, letting the others leave without him.

Birdie was in such a daze that it took a moment for her to roll down her window. "What?" she asked.

"I thought I told you to head home."

"I--" Birdie began, but she was unable to finish her sentence. All she could say was, "Morgan."

Officer Williams stretched his palms flat on the roof of Jonathan's car and leaned forward. Shaking his head, he looked to the ground and said, "I'm sorry, kid. It doesn't look good."

"You found her?"

Officer Williams opened his mouth once and then closed it, as if he wanted to say something he knew he shouldn't. But one more look into Birdie's big eyes forced the words from him anyhow. "We still need to process the DNA but...yeah. It looks like we found her."

Birdie turned her head forward and resumed staring out the windshield like she had been for the past two hours. Something still didn't feel right so she decided that it wasn't right. Nothing was right. Everything was wrong.

"You should head home. Be with your family. Both of you. We'll call if we have any more questions," Officer Williams said. When Birdie still didn't respond, he patted the roof of the car and walked back to his squad.

Jonathan looked to Birdie for their next course of action but she was still unresponsive so he made the decision for her. He gave the caravan a little time to get ahead of them before starting the car and pulling back out onto the street.

Another bout of silence settled upon the car until they were nearly back to their neighborhood. "I'm sorry," Jonathan said to Birdie as he wiped away a tear gathering in the corner of his eye.

"Don't be," Birdie replied without hesitation, letting her gut instinct take over. "Morgan isn't dead. Morgan can't be dead."

"Listen, I know it's tough, but--" Jonathan began when Birdie cut her off.

"No, you don't understand," she snapped, making Jonathan flinch. "I don't know how to tell you this but something isn't right about this whole situation...I can feel it. I-I've seen things and I've heard things and none of this is adding up."

"Seen things? Heard things?" Jonathan asked in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Birdie groaned and shook her head, fighting against her racing thoughts. She had been ready and willing to track down a monster to find her best friend and while she should have been relieved that her investigation had led her to a much more rational explanation, it didn't feel like the right explanation. Everything about it seemed too...convenient.

If that man had murdered Morgan, why would he be driving around with her bicycle in plain view in the back of his truck? In a crowded area no less, where it'd be easy to spot? And what was Officer Williams doing out there in the first place? It seemed like a strange, desolate place to take lunch. And then there was the scrap of fabric in the burn pit...what were the odds that the one recognizable part of Morgan's shirt hadn't burned in the fire when everything else had? Even the response time from back-up and the coroner seemed quick. It's almost like it was all perfectly planned.

And that meant if it wasn't the man, then it was the monster.

Birdie didn't know how to explain this all to Jonathan without sounding crazy and she didn't get a chance to, because just then Jonathan's headlights illuminated the darkened shape of a person standing directly in their path.

The figure put their arms out to stop the car and Jonathan slammed on the brakes. "Mom?" he shouted, scrambling to get out of the car once he realized who the figure was.

Birdie remained seated, watching quietly as the mother and son embraced. She was almost as caught up in the moment as they were until the flashing of red and blue lights appeared in the rearview mirror.

WHILE BIRDIE WAS BUSY hunting down monsters, both literal and theoretical, somebody else took her place in the search party.

Valeria absentmindedly hummed along to the radio, which was tuned to a hard metal station, picking at the beds of her chipped finger nails while she waited for the dismissal bell to announce the end of the day for Hawkins Middle School. Wednesday's were Bingo Night and Ms. Henderson volunteered to help run the event at the senior center, so Valeria was there to pick up Dustin.

Bingo didn't start until five, so Valeria would usually head over to babysit after practice, but today Ms. Henderson had gone early to set up and socialize, giving Valeria the excuse that she had been looking for to skip. She had skipped plenty in the past, for any number of bullshit reasons...she was too tired, it was a full moon, her Magic 8 ball told her not to...but this time was different.

Morgan and Birdie were the entire reason Valeria remained on the team and with Morgan...gone...and the shaky ground between herself and Birdie as of late, practice was the last place she wanted to be. So instead she was here, at Hawkins Middle, waiting in a line of impatient parents honking their horns at each other to get to the front.

Valeria turned up the volume on the stereo, both to tune out the irritating honking and the creeping memories of the past couple days, when she spotted Dustin's curly mop of hair. He was among the first out of the building, followed closely by Mike and Lucas. They veered immediately towards the bike rack without even glancing her way.

Valeria beeped her horn once to get their attention, but it didn't stand out much amongst the other honks so she decided to try another tactic. Babysitting Dustin over the past couple years had been far more educational than Valeria would have liked and as a result, she was well versed in Morse Code.

Beep beep beep beep. Beep. Beeeeep beep beeeeep beeeeep. Pause. Beeeeep beep. Beep. Beep beeeep beep. Beeeeep beep beep. Beep beep beep.

That caught their attention.

Valeria watched with a smirk as Mike, Lucas, and Dustin erupted into a heated argument before Dustin eventually headed her way, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process. She leaned over to roll down the passenger side window as he approached.

"Chop, chop, Dust Buster," Valeria called out. Dust Buster was just one of many nicknames she had conjured up for him in her arsenal, others including Dust Bunny, Dust Bowl, and Saw Dust. "Got places to be, people to see."

"Hi Val," Dustin greeted her with a smile as he leaned over to talk to her through the window. A click echoed as she unlocked the car but he didn't make a move for the door handle. "Sorry, my mom must have forgotten to mention that Bingo was canceled so we don't need your services tonight."

"Is that so?" Valeria asked, her unblinking blue eyes staring straight through Dustin like an X-ray machine. Dustin had never been a good liar and Valeria had a bullshit detector that would make a polygraph jealous.

"Yup," Dustin answered, his voice squeaky.

"Well, that's too bad," Valeria began after a moment of consideration. As good as she was at picking out lies, she was even better at telling them. Her mother always used to say that if there was an Olympics event for lying, Valeria would be a gold medalist. "Because I just got off the phone with my gran—you know, the one with the gambling problem?—and she said that she was excited for Bingo tonight because they're serving nachos at the senior center and she needs to win her dentures back."

"Oh, um...that's..." Dustin stammered, unable to get a full word out.

"She's going to be just heartbroken when I deliver the news," Valeria continued, mocking concern. "She had to miss out on nachos last time too. But hey—" Valeria snapped her fingers as her eyes lit up. "—I've got an idea. You're getting in your adult teeth now, right? How about you hop in and you can chew her food for her. Like a mama bird and a baby bird. I know she'd be real grateful."

"Well, see, I've actually got—"

"You've got what?" Valeria pressed. "Something better to do than to help a poor old woman enjoy one of the last good meals she's ever going to get before she goes to the grave?"

"Son of a bitch," Dustin conceded, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Fine, I lied."

"No shit."

"But there is something important I've got to go do so I can't go with you."

"I've also got something important to do," Valeria countered. "It's called babysitting."

Valeria's line of sight followed Dustin's as he turned back to look at Mike and Lucas behind him. They were both straddling their bikes and Mike was aggressively pointing at his wrist.

"Shit, okay, listen..." Dustin sighed. "It's Will. We met somebody who says she knows where he is and can show us."

Valeria's brow arched so high it nearly it her hairline. "Does she also drive a white van and give out candy?"

Dustin groaned, his fingers anxiously tapping against the door before he suddenly snapped, "Don't you want to find Morgan?"

Valeria paled. Not only at the mention of her friend's name, but at the tone it was delivered in. Dustin never talked back to her like that. Not when she made him adhere to his curfew, not when she told him that Star Wars was stupid, not even when she ratted him out to his mom after he accidentally broke a vase while trying to master paddle-ball. Never. He was serious about going and Valeria knew there was little she could do to stop him. So if she couldn't beat him, she had to join him.

"Fine, let's go then," Valeria said, shifting the Cutlass into park and turning the ignition off. She flipped off the vehicles behind her, who began honking even more incessantly, right before passing under a sign that read, "Pick-Up/Drop-Off Zone Only, No Parking".

Unable to find any words to stop her, Dustin followed helplessly behind as she headed directly towards the bike rack.

"What the hell, Dustin?" Mike exclaimed. "You were supposed to get rid of her, not invite her to come with!"

"Hey," Valeria snapped. "I'm getting paid money to watch this little shit, so wherever he goes, I go. And if you don't like it, then I can go have a conversation with each and every one of your parents about your extracurricular activities."

Mike's eyes narrowed but he didn't fight back. "We don't have time for this," he muttered, pressing his foot down on the pedal as he began biking towards their destination. Lucas followed close behind but Dustin trailed back to allow Valeria a chance to keep up since she was on foot.

When they reached the power lines, they only found one person waiting for them.

"Where's Birdie?" Dustin inquired.

"Birdie?" Valeria asked, once more paling at the mention of a friend's name. "Why would Birdie be here?"

"She didn't tell you?"

"I don't know, we haven't really been talking lately," Valeria admitted, her cheeks flushed with shame.

"Hop on," Mike instructed the newcomer, who Valeria just barely recognized from the previous night, as he patted the back of his bike. "We only have a couple hours. If Birdie isn't here, that's her problem."

The group continued biking until the the girl on the back of Mike's bike, who Valeria heard them refer to as El, instructed them to stop. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas all walked their bikes from there as El took the lead.

Valeria remained at the back, her hands shoved into the pockets of the leather jacket that had once been her brother's. While the others were engaged in their own conversations — Mike and El discussing the scab on his chin, Dustin and Lucas arguing over whether Will rolling the 7 had anything to do with his disappearance — Valeria found unwanted company in the dark depths of her mind.

Valeria was used to people leaving her, perhaps even more than she was to people sticking around. When she was eight, her dad went to prison for his fifth and final stint after robbing a gas station at gunpoint. When she was twelve, she was temporarily placed in the custody of her grandparents while her mother went to rehab yet again to deal with the drinking problem she had picked up during her shitty marriage. And just last year, her older brother, Danny, the glue that had just barely kept their crumbling family together, finally gave up and took off in search of a better life.

And now, with Morgan...Valeria didn't want to admit that Morgan was missing because that meant there was a chance that she wasn't coming back. The only way Valeria knew how to deal with problems was to ignore them, to act like they never happened. And because of this, she was starting to lose Birdie too.

Valeria wasn't an idiot. She recognized her own toxic behavior but she felt powerless to stop it. It was coded in her genes. While it was true that her bark was on par with her bite, it was just a cover to distract from the tail tucked between her legs; a chance for the "or" between "fight" and "flight" to slip away, leaving her body to lead the charge while her mind retreated.

Just as it had then.

"Val? Earth to Val?" Dustin asked, his hand waving in front of her face.

"What?" Valeria snapped, slapping his hand away.

"I dunno, you looked upset."

Valeria's features softened. Here she was, doing it yet again. "Sorry, just have a lot on my mind."

"I'm sorry about your friend," Dustin said with a smile that indicated his understanding. "But we'll find her, just like we'll find Will."

Valeria wasn't able to acknowledge this so she just nodded her head. "So what's the deal with those two?" she asked, clearing her throat as she changed the topic. Mike and El had been walking quite closely throughout their whole search, sharing giggles and smiles like they were in their own little world.

Lucas, who was trying to distance himself from their canoodling, fell back to join Dustin and Valeria's conversation. "He's totally in love with her," he answered with a roll of his eyes.

Valeria couldn't help but laugh, a ray of sunshine sneaking through a sliver in the storm cloud fogging her mind. "Don't you worry, you'll be giving those same doe eyes to some girl soon enough."

"Gross, no," Lucas replied, scrunching up his nose in disgust.

"Wanna bet on it?" Valeria asked, brows raised. Lucas studied her in consideration. "Twenty bucks says you'll be all ga-ga over a girl in the next year."

"Deal," Lucas agreed, although somewhat tentatively. Spitting in his hand, he held it out for Valeria to cement the pact.

Valeria wasn't one to back down, so she followed suit, their slimy hands shaking in agreement.

"What about me?" Dustin asked eagerly.

"Oh, Trusty Dusty," Valeria said, patting his head with her spit-soaked hand and using his thick curls as a towel to wipe the saliva off. Dustin tried to recoil but he was too late; his curls were slicked back like he had dropped a dollop of gel in. "Unless you've got twenty cash in your pocket you can cough up right now, you don't want to make that bet."

Dustin paused, a look of confusion crossing his features. "What do you mean?" he asked, answering his own question as he raced to remain right by her side.

They walked until it was dark, finally reaching their destination at a familiar place.

El and Mike had remained several steps ahead of Valeria, Dustin, and Lucas throughout the whole search so they arrived first. When the three stragglers rounded the corner, they caught the last words of what seemed to be a disagreement.

Exhausted from the long walk, Dustin and Lucas dropped their bikes to the ground. They then groaned twice as loud when they looked up to see that the lawn they were standing on belonged to the Byers'.

"What are we doing here?" Lucas demanded.

"She said he's hiding here," Mike explained, his tone verging on exasperation.

"Um..." Lucas began, deliberately looking around as if searching for his own sanity. "No!"

"I swear," Dustin added between heavy breaths. "If we walked all the way out here for nothing—"

"That's exactly what we did!" Lucas finished. "I told you she didn't know what the hell she was talking about!"

Valeria observed from the sidelines, keeping her opinions to herself. She was just there to sit, not to baby. They could sort out the argument themselves.

Mike turned to El. "Why did you bring us here?"

El began to answer when Lucas cut her off. "Mike, don't waste your time with her."

"What do you want to do then?" Mike retorted, growing upset.

"Call the cops, like we should have done yesterday," Lucas answered, his arms crossed over his chest.

"We are not calling the cops."

"Hey guys..." Dustin tried to interject but he was ignored by everyone except Valeria. She shared a glance with him, immediately recognizing the faint scream of sirens in the distance.

"What other choice do we have?" Lucas continued.

"Shut it!" Valeria shouted, her voice immediately cutting through any last lingering words. The others stopped their squabbling just in time to catch two squad cars and an ambulance go racing past the Byers' house.

"Will," Mike whispered, the realization prickling the skin on the back of his neck.

There was no further arguing, all of them coming to the same unspoken agreement at the same time: they needed to follow.

The caravan led Mike, Dustin, Lucas, El, and Valeria to the quarry where they were met with more lights and sirens, including Chief Hopper's truck, who had just pulled in right before them. For the sake of speed, Valeria ended up pedaling Dustin's bike while he rode on the back, clinging onto her tighter than he needed to. When they arrived, they found a group of emergency personnel including State Troopers, EMTs, and Hawkins Police lingering at the bottom near the edge of the reservoir.

They watched with bated breaths from behind a fire truck as the body of a small boy was lifted and loaded onto a stretcher. The water was so black and so still that it almost appeared like they had pulled him from thin air, like a magic trick. Abracadabra! With a wave of their wand, they had brought reality crashing down.

"It's not Will..." Mike said, shaking his head in disbelief. "It can't be."

Valeria's heart plummeted, leaving her chest an empty cavity. It's not Will, the devil on Valeria's shoulder confirmed. It can't be.

"It's Will," Lucas corrected him, his tone somber. "It's really Will."

Meanwhile, the angel on her other shoulder whispered: It's Will. It's really Will.

Valeria's head was spinning, her thoughts at war with one another. Whether it was the darkness or the sleep deprivation or both, the longer she stared at Will's body, the more she started to see Morgan.

It's not Morgan, it can't be.

It's Morgan. It's really Morgan.

Breathless, Mike stepped away from the group and an oblivious El followed after.

"Mike," she said, her hand reaching out to comfort him before it was knocked down by Mike.

"'Mike'?" Mike imitated her, his eyes lit with a fury that burned from somewhere deep and dark. "'Mike' what? You were supposed to help us find him alive. You said he was alive! Why did you lie to us? What's wrong with you? What is wrong with you?"

"Mike," El whispered again, her voice small but still hopeful.

"What?"

She shook her head, unable to say anything more. At this, Mike stormed off towards his bike.

"Mike, come on," Lucas called after him. "Don't do this, man. Mike..."

"Mike, where are you going?" Dustin shouted, watching helplessly as Mike picked up his bike, wheeling it up the hill until he found steady ground and climbed on the seat. "Mike!"

They continued to call after him as he pedaled away but nothing they said brought him back.

Just like nothing would bring Will back.

But if Valeria got her shit together, maybe, just maybe, it wasn't too late to bring Morgan back.

AUTHOR'S NOTE !
FYI, This is the last of the original republished chapters from 2023, everything from here on out will be published for the first time not following the build-your-own story format.

Apologies to anybody who read this chapter before I unpublished it (again). I was so eager to republish the original chapters that I forgot about the subplot I cooked up for Valeria. I wanted to give you guys a little peek inside her head to see what was really going on in there. Unfortunately, as to be expected, it's trauma and lots of cussing, but all the same. Because I added this part with Valeria, I pushed the part where it flashes back to Birdie at the Byers' to the next chapter.

Thanks for reading! ❤️