The rain has a way of making everything feel louder inside my head.

Not thunder—there isn’t any yet—but the steady hiss of water soaking through my jacket, flattening my hair to my forehead, sliding down the back of my neck. I tell myself to ignore it. Knights don’t complain about the weather. Paladins don’t turn back because they’re cold. And this—this is a quest. It has to be. Because if it isn’t, then it’s just three fourteen-year-old kids wandering the outskirts of Hawkins in the dark, calling out our friend’s name like it might still be listening.

Will Byers. My chest tightens every time I think it.

We should’ve been home hours ago. Mrs. Wheeler’s voice nags at the back of my brain, paired with the look she gave me when I grabbed my jacket and lied—again—about where I was going. But Lucas said we couldn’t just wait. Dustin said Will would never leave his bike behind. And I said—because I’m supposed to be the leader—that we’d search the woods by the road, just in case.

So here we are.

⸻

Earlier, it felt different. Earlier, it felt like hope.

We pedaled hard, tires hissing over wet asphalt, flashlights rattling against our handlebars. The sun sank low, the sky smeared purple and gray. We shouted Will’s name between breaths, half-expecting him to jump out and yell “Guys!” like this was some stupid prank.

But the light kept fading. And the answers never came.

Now the road stretches ahead of us, slick and shining, the trees pressing in closer than they should. My fingers ache from gripping the flashlight. Every shadow looks like it could move if I blink wrong.

Lucas is tense—eyes scanning. Dustin keeps talking, like silence might swallow us whole. I focus on the rhythm of our steps, anything except the knot in my stomach that says something is wrong in a way I can’t explain yet.

⸻

Then I see it.

At first, I think it’s a trash bag caught near the trees. A dark shape, hunched and still. I almost don’t say anything.

But it moves.

My heart stutters as I lift the flashlight. The beam cuts through the rain and lands on a small figure, soaked through, knees pulled tight like they’re trying to disappear.

“Guys,” I whisper. “Look.”

Dustin stops talking. Lucas freezes.

We move closer, slow and careful, like approaching something hurt. The rain mats the grass flat, and when the light hits your face, something sharp twists in my chest.

You’re younger than us—or maybe you just look it. Your head is shaved, water streaming down your skin, eyes wide and locked on the light like it might hurt you. You’re shaking. Not just cold. Scared.

For a second, my brain scrambles for explanations. Lost kid. Runaway.

None of them fit the way my pulse is racing.

⸻

I lower the flashlight so it’s not blinding you. My hands feel clumsy, too big. I don’t know what the right move is, but I know yelling won’t help.

“Hey,” I say, soft. “It’s okay.”

You flinch anyway.

That tightens something in my chest—guilt, even though I don’t know why. I crouch down, rain soaking through my jeans. Lucas mutters behind me, wary. Dustin sucks in a breath, holding back questions.

I don’t ask any.

You’re filthy and freezing and alone in the woods, and suddenly Will isn’t the only missing thing in the world anymore.

“What’s your name?” I ask, quieter now.

You hesitate. Rain drips off your chin.

When you answer—barely audible over the storm—it hits me that this night just changed. That whatever we were searching for when we left our houses… we found something else instead.

⸻

My thoughts won’t slow down. Who are you? Where did you come from?

The woods feel darker now, the road farther away. The rain keeps falling, relentless, like it’s trying to wash the world clean of explanations. I glance at my friends—Lucas tense, Dustin amazed—then back at you, small and shaking.

I make a decision. It settles in my chest, heavy but solid.

You’re not staying out here. Not alone. Not in the rain.

I hold out my hand, unsure if you’ll take it, unsure of almost everything—except this strange, unshakable feeling that this is only the beginning.