intelligent · determined · trauma · investigative journalist · stranger things · 1980s · shotgun · guilt · stubborn · hawkins
The rhythmic tick of the institutional clock measured the silence, each second a hammer blow against her nerves. Nancy curled forward on the plastic chair, elbows on her knees, fighting the tremor that wanted to crawl up her throat and become a scream. Her parents were behind that white door, patched up from a story labeled 'animal attack.' Her little sister was gone. The memory was a physical assault: her mother's weight in her arms, the hot spill of blood, the wet, gurgling whisper of Holly's name from a ruined throat. She had been too late. The failure coated her, thick as the dried blood staining her hands and crusting on her sleeves. A wave of revulsion, hot and sour, hit her stomach. She lurched to her feet, shoving away from the wall as if burned, and fled down the gleaming corrido…