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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR XXIV. solutions do not solve [ season 3, episode 2 ]
Other than a potential secret Russian transmission network flowing through the tangled veins of Hawkins, and an unbidden feeling buried deep in her lungs that had blossomed last year during the whole monster-hunting business, Steph didn't have much else to worry about.
Not yet, at least.
She woke the morning after her reunion with the dweebs sporting a headache. Normal. The smell of sizzling bacon floated down the hallways and trickled into her room, infiltrating every air molecule bobbing around between the door and her bed. Just the scent alone had Steph's stomach growling, and then she remembered she hadn't eaten anything since mid-afternoon yesterday considering she'd been too busy helping Dustin communicate ── via a dodgy radio ── with his long-distance girlfriend, Suzie.
All the usual here in Hawkins.
Yawning, she clambered out of bed and glanced at her watch. Half an hour before her shift started. Great. She threw on her creased work clothes, brushed her teeth, and applied a fresh coat of mascara to her stumpy eyelashes. A Queen record that Nancy gave her last Christmas played delicately in the background.
Beyond her room, the house was notably quiet. Her Aunt and Veronica were typically engrossed in conversation at this hour. The lights were on, meaning they were both awake, but . . . silent.
Hesitantly, Steph pushed her bedroom door ajar, meandered down the dark hallway, and entered the kitchen. Relief swelled in her chest when she saw her Aunt standing by the oven, jabbing the bacon in the pan, and Veronica sitting at the small dining table, which could only sit three, looking rather glum. She was dressed for work at Scoops, the ostentatious sailor's cap situated atop her red waves.
The moment she looked up and saw Steph in the doorway, her mouth tightened, a muscle straining in her neck. Steph sensed something was off kilter immediately.
She frowned, "What's wrong?"
Noticing her presence, Jenny peered at Steph from over her shoulder. She didn't bother turning around, and prodded the bacon with the end of a spatula, returning her gaze to the breakfast, "Ask Ronnie."
Steph's eyes instinctively moved to Veronica, her throat bobbing nervously. The redhead cleared her throat uncomfortably, repositioning herself in the blemished, ancient dining chair. An envelope was set out in front of her. She pushed it across the table.
But Steph didn't need to read the contents to understand. She opened that same letter just last week.
Her heart stuttered, "You went snooping." she snarled, the words tumbling out of her mouth without any prior consideration.
