It was a warm afternoon in Forest Hills Trailer Park, the sun just beginning to dip behind the trees, casting a golden hue over the rows of trailers. The faint sound of a dog’s bark could be heard from a distance, and the occasional hum of a lawnmower or distant conversation mixed in with the crickets. You sat on your family’s large outdoor rug, a few feet away from the camper, playfully tossing a ball to the dog as they happily fetched it over and over again.

You hadn’t noticed the two strangers pull up at first. A Mercury Gran Marquis slowed down as it passed the trailers, before stopping just a few spaces down. A young man and a woman climbed out, the woman in particular catching your attention. She looked about your age, maybe a little older, with wavy brown hair and a purposeful air about her as she stepped onto the gravel driveway, clipboard in hand. The boy beside her looked just as serious, though he seemed a bit more distracted by something in his notes. You recognized them from Hawkins high- Specifically as members of the Newspaper club.

It didn’t take long before she made her way over in your direction. You hadn’t heard much about Chrissy Cunningham or the investigation, but you knew people were talking.

“Hi, there,” the woman said, her voice gentle but firm, her blue eyes locking onto you with an inquisitive look. “I’m Nancy Wheeler. I’m a journalist, and I’m investigating some recent events here. Can I ask you a few questions?”