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The Wheeler house had settled into something that almost resembled normal again.
Almost.
Eighteen months after everything—after earthquakes that weren’t earthquakes, after red lightning that didn’t belong to this world, after the sky itself seemed to tear open—life had done what it always does. It stitched itself back together in slightly crooked lines and called it fine.
The massive scar in the land still stretched beyond Hawkins like a bad memory no one could quite forget, but people had stopped staring at it every day. School resumed.
Nancy stayed busy. Holly stayed curious.
And Mike… well, Mike had been coming home late.
Frequently.
“Studying with Will” he’d say.
Karen had let it slide. Once. Twice. A dozen times.
But tonight?
Tonight, the clock ticked past reasonable.
Karen stood in the kitchen, arms crossed, staring at the oven timer. “Where is he?”
From the living room, Ted’s voice floated in, uninterested and muffled. “Traffic?”
Karen turned slowly. “Ted. He walks home.”
“…Right.”
Before she could continue the interrogation, the doorbell rang.
Karen didn’t hesitate. “Holly! Door!”
Holly, already halfway there like she’d been waiting for this exact moment, swung the door open.
Mike stood on the porch, slightly out of breath, hair a mess, jacket half-zipped like he’d lost a fight with it.
“Hi,” Holly said, far too calmly.
“Hey,” Mike replied, equally cautious.
Holly stepped aside. “You’re late.”
“I—yeah—I know.”
He slipped inside, avoiding eye contact, already moving toward the stairs like a soldier retreating from enemy lines.
Holly closed the door and wandered back toward the kitchen, climbing onto her usual stool by the counter, watching Karen with quiet, unsettling focus. Karen narrowed her eyes slightly. Holly just smiled.
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“Dinner!” Karen called out loudly, in the same tone she’d used for years. “Everyone to the table!”
Footsteps echoed from upstairs. A door shut. Another creaked open.
One by one, they gathered.
Spaghetti night.
They took their usual places—Mike, Nancy, and Holly on one side. Ted at the head. Karen opposite them.
Plates were filled. Forks clinked. The room settled into a silence that wasn’t quite comfortable.
Karen waited.
And then, with a smile that was just a little too sweet.
“So, Mike,” she began, casually twirling pasta, “why are you so late today?”
Mike didn’t look up. “Just studying.”
Karen tilted her head. “Studying.”
“Yeah, with Will.”
At the mention of Will Byers, Nancy’s eyes flicked sideways toward Mike. She didn’t say anything. But the look said plenty.
Karen continued, still smiling. “You’ve been doing a lot of studying lately.”
Mike shrugged, trying for nonchalant and landing somewhere near suspicious. “Big project.”
Ted, already halfway through his second serving, nodded vaguely. “Good. Education is important.”
Nancy bit the inside of her cheek.
Holly, who had been quietly eating, suddenly spoke. “Did you do a lot of studying today?”
Mike blinked at her. “Yeah? I did.”
Holly nodded thoughtfully. “What is your project on? Human anatomy?”
Everyone stopped.
Ted choked.
Nancy immediately spat a little water back into her glass, coughing as she tried not to laugh.
Karen frowned. “What?”
Mike’s fork clattered onto his plate.
“I—what? No—what?!” he stammered, eyes darting wildly.
Holly continued eating, completely calm.
Nancy lost it.
She bent forward, laughing uncontrollably, trying—and failing—to cover it with her hand.
Mike pointed at her like he’d just found the source of all evil.
“This was your idea?" he blurted. “She told you to say that!”
Nancy wheezed. “I did not—oh my god—I did not—”
“You totally did!” Mike insisted, voice cracking. “Or—or you taught her that! That’s something you would say!”
“I am not coaching Holly on anatomy jokes, Mike!”
Karen looked between them, increasingly lost. “What is happening right now?”
Ted, still recovering, coughed into his napkin. “Anatomy… is science,” he offered weakly.
No one acknowledged him.
Holly took another bite of spaghetti.
“So you weren’t studying anatomy?” she asked plainly.
Mike’s face turned red. “No!”
Nancy laughed harder.
Karen’s eyes narrowed.
“Michael,” she said slowly, “what exactly have you been doing with Will?”
There was a long, dangerous pause.
Mike swallowed.
“Mom, we are only making the project" he said, far too quickly.
“Okay,” she said.
Ted resumed eating.
Karen didn’t look convinced.
And Mike?
Mike very suddenly was becoming extremely interested in his spaghetti.
Somewhere, far across Hawkins, Will probably sneezed—completely unaware he’d just been implicated in whatever this chaos was.
The house fell back into silence.
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