͏b͏r͏o͏k͏e͏n || ͏b͏i͏l͏l͏y ͏h͏a͏r͏g͏r͏o͏v͏e

T H I R T E E N

𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍

"About time you showed up," Steve snapped the moment I stumbled toward the group, out of breath, hair a mess, adrenaline still buzzing under my skin. Not only did I have to park the car in a shady part of the woods, I had to actually find everyone.

I held up a finger—hold on, let me not die—and bent over, trying to breathe. My lungs felt like they'd been replaced with burning sandpaper.

"What took you so long? We were worried sick. We almost had to fight off a bunch of demo—" Steve started to ramble, but I cut him off with a sharp gesture.

"I swear on every nail in your stupid bat, I don't want to hear it right now."

Four pairs of wide, startled child eyes. One concerned Max. One deeply confused Steve.

Inside, my thoughts felt like a blender set to obliterate.

I'd just stuffed myself in a closet to avoid a man who could probably smell fear. Billy crying in my arms still clung to my clothes like smoke. My ribs hurt from rolling off the freakin roof. My legs burned from sprinting down a neighborhood street like some off brand action hero. And now?

NOW?

Everyone was acting like I had just casually strolled in late to a picnic.

Steve blinked at me. "Ana...?"

"You want to know what took me so long?" I snapped, pointing at him. "I spent THREE HOURS doing a project—because SOMEONE had to babysit the tornado with great hair—and then I had to JUMP OUT OF A WINDOW to not blow Max's cover. I landed on my FACE, Steve. My FACE!"

Dustin's eyebrows shot into his hairline. Lucas muttered, "Dang." Max stared at me like I'd just sprouted an extra head.

"And THEN I ran a full sprint, in the dark, across half of Hawkins, trying to beat Billy to his freakout destination before he could connect the dots. So excuse me if I'm not exactly in my 'saving-the-world' mindset right this second, Mama Steve."

Steve opened his mouth, then closed it again. For once, he had nothing.

"You... you jumped out of a window?" Max asked, voice tiny.

I turned on her, exhaustion dripping from every word. "YES. I did. To protect YOU. So no offense, sweetheart, but if anybody tries to complain tonight, I WILL—"

A hand clamped over my mouth.

Steve.

"Okay, timeout," he said, eyes wide. "These are children. Calm your tits."

I tore his hand away and hissed, "I am calm."

Dustin whispered, "She is absolutely not calm."

"Nope," Lucas agreed.

"Not even close," Max added.

I shot all three of them a glare sharp enough to peel paint.

"Let's just go," Steve muttered, nudging me forward.

Dry leaves crunched under our shoes as we pushed deeper into the woods. The evening air was cold enough to sting my cheeks, and every distant rustle made my nerves tighten like a pulled string.

"You're positive that was Dart?" Lucas asked, his voice edged with hope and dread.

"Yes," Dustin said, shifting the backpack on his shoulders. "He had the exact same yellow pattern on his butt."