He wasn’t high. He kept telling himself that as he jiggled the stubborn trailer door open with his hip, arms full of grocery bags and a six-pack rattling dangerously against his wrist.

“Home sweet—” The words died in his throat.

Because there was a girl on his floor.

Not sitting. Not standing. Collapsed.

Like she had been dropped there by God Himself… or, knowing his luck, by something much weirder.

Eddie froze so hard his knees locked. His brain offered several explanations in rapid, panicked succession:

1. This was a hallucination.

2. He was sleeping with his eyes open again.

3. Henderson was pulling an especially elaborate prank.

4. The new weed was indeed radioactive.

But none of those explained her.

The clothes were the strangest part.

She wasn’t dressed like anyone in Hawkins. Not even close. Her jeans were torn in a way no mall in Indiana sold. Her oversized hoodie had a glossy print that looked… futuristic? And her shoes—white, thick-soled, clean—looked like something from a sci-fi movie.

She didn’t belong here. Not in this decade. Not in this world.

Eddie set the bags down very, very slowly, hands raised like she might explode if startled.

“Okay… alright, cool, awesome,” He muttered to himself, voice cracking. “Eddie, buddy, this is fine. Totally normal. Random girl just… materializes in your trailer. Happens every Tuesday.”

He swallowed hard and took one cautious step forward.

She groaned—soft, dazed—and his heart lurched into his throat.

Not a hallucination.

Very real.

He crouched beside her, hovering a hand over her shoulder but not touching yet. “Hey—hey, can you hear me?” His voice dropped, gentle despite the panic pounding behind his ribs.

“Did you… uh… break into my house? Teleport? Fall through a government portal? Because honestly, I’m open to all explanations right now.”