𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏, ronance ¹

𝟎𝟐. 𝗙𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗦𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗙𝗥𝗢𝗠 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗬

The harsh fluorescent lights of the Hawkins Police Station flickered overhead as Nancy and Robin sat in the dimly lit room, the air thick with tension.

Their makeshift investigation hadn't even gotten off the ground before Jonathan's case was overtaken by detectives who couldn't have cared less.

Detective Callahan leaned back in his chair, eyeing Nancy and Robin with a scepticism that bordered on suspicion.

"So, let me get this straight," he said, twirling his pencil between his fingers, "You two stumble upon the body of a murder victim in an abandoned mine, and you expect us to believe you're not involved?"

Nancy glared at him, her frustration palpable, "Involved?" she repeated, disbelief lacing her voice, "Come off it, Callahan, we're here to find out who murdered Jonathan, not to be accused of something we didn't do."

Robin crossed her arms, her usual snark replaced by a steel resolve, "We might not be besties with the Hawkins Police, but that doesn't mean we're murderers."

The detective studied them for a moment before sighing, "Fine," he said, throwing his pencil and pad onto the desk, exasperated, "For now, you're witnesses. But stick around. We might have more questions."

As they left the police station, the tension between them threatened to boil over as it simmered below the surface.

"This is ridiculous," Nancy snapped, breaking the silence, "We're not the ones who killed Jonathan. Why can't they see that?"

Robin scoffed, her eyes flashing with irritation, "Well, this is what happens when you play detective, Wheeler," she said, lighting a cigarette as she leaned against Nancy's car, "You get dragged into the mess, and suddenly everyone thinks you're hiding something."

Nancy froze, then turned to face Robin, "I didn't ask for your help, you know," she said, annoyed, "If you think I'm the reason we're in this mess, then maybe you should've stayed out of it."

Robin clenched her jaw, flicking her cigarette to the ground as her frustration boiled over, "Staying out of it wouldn't bring Jonathan back. But I guess you wouldn't understand that, would you? You're too busy playing the grieving girlfriend to care about anything else."

Robin's words hung in the air, a bitter silence between them.

Nancy's eyes prickled with tears, "You think I wanted this?" she asked, wiping her face with the sleeve of her parka, "He was my boyfriend, Robin. And now he's gone. So excuse me if I'm not in the mood for your sarcasm right now."

Robin's expression softened for a moment, a stone of remorse settling in her stomach, "I didn't mean to—"

"No, forget it," Nancy said, cutting her off, "Let's just—"

"I can't forget it," Robin said, her resolve refusing to dissipate, "You're so wrapped up in your own little world that you actually believe you're the only one who's lost someone."

Nancy's eyes narrowed, her voice sharp, "Why are you so hell-bent on helping me if you can't stand me so much?" she snapped, "Is it guilt, perhaps? Or are you just desperate for something interesting to happen in your boring little life?"