The next morning, Dove blinked awake, her eyes adjusting to the soft light filtering through the blinds. She glanced around the living room, spotting Dustin sprawled across the floor, still sound asleep. But Steve was nowhere to be found.
Curious, Dove sat up quietly, listening. Faint voices drifted from the kitchen, one of them unmistakably her mom's. The other, deep and a little nervous, was Steve's. She couldn't make out what they were saying, so she slipped out of her blanket and padded toward the kitchen, stopping just outside the doorway.
As she approached, their conversation became clearer.
"Thanks again for letting me stay over," Steve was saying, his voice sincere. "I hope it wasn't too much trouble."
"Not at all, Steve. You're welcome anytime," she replied warmly. "Besides, it was nice having someone else here to help keep an eye on those two. Dustin is always up to something and Dove.. well she doesn't usually have friends over. Not since we moved here, anyway."
"Really?" Steve asked, sounding surprised.
"She keeps to herself more than she used to." Her mom said softly. "I worry sometimes. But it's nice to see her letting someone in. Even if it's just to study."
Steve's response was quiet but steady. "Well, she's, uh.. easy to be around. And pretty great to talk to."
Her mom's voice softened even more, almost as if she sensed something she wasn't pressing. "I'm glad to hear that, Steve. She deserves a friend who sees her that way."
Dove walked in, breaking the quiet intimacy of their conversation. Both her mom and Steve looked up, a bit startled. Her mom quickly busied herself with cracking eggs into a bowl, while Steve, standing near the stove, turned his attention back to flipping a stack of pancakes.
Dove raised an eyebrow, taking in the scene. "Didn't realize we were making a whole breakfast spread," she said, a hint of a smile creeping into her voice.
Her mom glanced over her shoulder, smiling warmly. "Well, since we had an unexpected guest, I figured we might as well do it right."
Steve shot Dove a small grin, holding up a spatula. "Apparently, I make a decent pancake," he said with a slight shrug.
Dove laughed softly, leaning against the counter. "We'll see about that."
Her mom chuckled, glancing over at Dove with a playful smile. "Oh, you should know, Steve—Dove's a bit of a pancake connoisseur. She's very particular."
Dove rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide her grin. "She's exaggerating," she said, giving her mom a look. "I just know a good pancake when I see one."
Steve raised an eyebrow, flipping another pancake onto the growing stack. "Alright, pressure's on, then," he said with a smirk. "Guess I better make these the best pancakes you've ever had."
Her mom laughed as she poured juice into glasses, looking between them with a warm smile. "Alright, I'm going to wake up Dustin. He'll want these hot."
As she left the room, Steve turned to Dove, his curiosity clear. "So, what exactly makes a pancake great?" he asked, leaning against the counter.
Dove smirked, hopping up onto the counter beside him. "Well, if you'd asked me five years ago, I would have said chocolate chips. I was very passionate about that," she said, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. "But, uh.. then my mom started to only makes pancakes when she's trying to get something out of me. Like, when I broke the window with a softball, or the time Dustin and I decided to color on the walls."
Steve chuckled. "Bet she loved that."
Dove smiled, though her expression softened. "Then it got more serious. She started making them whenever she had bad news to break. Like when our cat died.. or when my parents got divorced." She paused, glancing down at her hands. "The last time she made them.. was after my date with Billy."
Steve's face grew serious, nodding slowly as he processed what she'd said. "So.. pancakes are a bit of a loaded breakfast for you, huh?"
"Yeah," she said, giving a small, humorless laugh. "I guess you could say that. They mean something's up."
Steve leaned against the counter, his gaze steady on her. "And.. is something up this morning?" he asked, his voice careful.
Dove shrugged. "Well, let's see.. interdimensional monsters are real, one of them just ate my cat, and Steve Harrington is making me pancakes. I honestly don't know which of those is weirder."
Steve snorted, rolling his eyes but smiling. "Glad I rank somewhere near interdimensional monster on the weird scale."
Dove gave him a playful smirk. "I mean, to be fair, if someone had told me a month ago that you would be in my kitchen making breakfast, I would have told them they were insane." Dove took a pancake from the stack, inspecting it with mock seriousness. "Now, let's see if King Steve actually knows how to make a decent pancake," she teased, taking a deliberate bite.
Steve watched her intently, his expression somewhere between hopeful and amused. She paused, savoring it, then raised an eyebrow. "Alright.. I'll admit, these aren't half bad."
A grin spread across his face, and he let out a relieved laugh. "High praise coming from the pancake connoisseur."
Dove laughed, rolling her eyes. "Let's not get carried away."
Just then, Dustin shuffled into the kitchen, hair sticking up in all directions. "Please tell me those are for me," he mumbled, eyeing the stack hungrily.
Dove snorted, nudging the plate toward him. "You're just in time. King Steve over here is trying to prove his pancake skills."
Dustin grabbed a pancake, taking a big bite without hesitation. He gave a nod of approval, chewing loudly. "Not bad, Harrington. I give it a solid eight out of ten."
Steve smirked, looking pleased with himself. "I'll take it."
Dove's mom walked back into the kitchen, adjusting her coat. "I'm going to go out and look for Mews some more," she said, her voice soft but determined.
Dove, Steve, and Dustin exchanged a tense glance, each trying to keep their expressions neutral. Her mom didn't seem to notice, though she did pause, looking at Dove. "Will you run to the store and pick up some groceries?"
Dove nodded quickly, forcing a small smile. "Of course, Mom. I'll take care of it."
Her mom smiled gratefully. "Thank you, sweetheart." She glanced over at Dustin and Steve, nodding a little distractedly, and then headed out the door.
They ate quietly, each lost in their own thoughts, but the familiar routine brought a sense of normalcy. After finishing, they set to work cleaning up. Dove handed a wet plate to Steve, who carefully dried it, their movements in sync. Dustin opened a cabinet, standing on his toes to shove a stack of plates onto the higher shelf. "We make a pretty decent team," he said, placing a glass in the cabinet with a satisfied nod.
Steve smirked, drying the last plate. "Good thing too, considering we're about to go fight an interdimensional monster."
Dustin's smile faded as he took the plate from Steve, his expression growing serious, as if the weight of their situation had suddenly hit him again. For a moment, he just stared at the plate in his hands, the reality settling back over him.
Steve reached out, nudging him gently. "Hey, we've got this," he said softly, trying to reassure Dustin. "We've faced crazier things, right?"
Dustin took a steadying breath, putting the plate away with a nod. "Right. And we've got a plan," he said, his confidence returning. "First stop: the grocery store. Let's load up on red meat."
The fluorescent lights overhead flickered faintly as Dove, Steve, and Dustin made their way down the aisles of the grocery store. It was the middle of the day, the sun shining brightly outside, but inside the store, the air felt cool and sterile, like time had frozen.
Dustin darted ahead, eagerly filling his cart with packs of raw meat—steaks, burger patties, stew cuts, anything red and dripping in the package. He piled them into the cart with grim determination, muttering to himself about prime bait material as he went.
A few steps behind, Steve pushed another cart, which Dove was steadily filling with their regular groceries. She dropped in a loaf of bread and some cereal, glancing up at Dustin.
"Think we should reel him in before he buys out the whole meat section?" Steve asked.
Dove grinned, tossing a pack of pasta into their cart. "Might be a good idea. Don't think my mom's ready to take out a second mortgage just for monster bait."
Steve glanced over at her, giving a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it. I'll cover the monster bait."
Dove opened her mouth to protest, but before she could get a word out, she heard someone call Steve's name from the end of the aisle. She looked up to see Carol and Tommy sauntering over, smug expressions plastered on their faces as they took in the sight of Dove and Steve together.
"Well, well," Carol said, her voice dripping with mock surprise. "Didn't know you two were friends."
Dove's jaw tightened, ready to fire back, but before she could say anything, Steve straightened up, his expression cooling into his usual indifferent mask. "We're not," he said quickly, giving an exaggerated shrug. "Just trying to get some answers for the history homework."
Dove rolled her eyes, irritation flaring at his attempt to keep up the cool guy act. "And I was just about to tell him to figure it out himself," she said pointedly, shooting Steve a glare. Without another word, she pushed the cart forward, turning on her heel and leaving him behind.
Dove caught up to Dustin, who was inspecting a whole rack of ribs with intense concentration. "You ready to go?" she asked, crossing her arms as she watched him consider the oversized slab of meat.
"Almost. Just need to add this bad boy," he said, lifting the rack of ribs triumphantly.
Dove shook her head firmly. "Absolutely not. We're trying to catch Dart, not open a barbecue restaurant."
Dustin let out a dramatic sigh but reluctantly put the ribs back. As he turned back to her, he finally noticed Steve's absence, his brow furrowing. "Wait.. where's Steve?"
Dove shrugged, trying to play it off, but the irritation still simmered in her voice. "Talking to some friends,"
Dustin raised an eyebrow, catching the edge in her voice. "Friends, huh? You mean those friends?" he asked, pointing back in the direction she'd come from.
Dove followed his gaze, her eyes landing on Carol and Tommy, who were still lingering with Steve. He was laughing along with them, but she could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. Every so often, he'd glance around, almost as if he was looking for an escape.
Dove's irritation softened as she watched him. It was obvious he was uncomfortable, yet still playing along, keeping up the act for people he didn't even seem to like. A quiet sigh escaped her, and she quickly turned her attention back to Dustin. "Yeah, those friends."
They made it to the checkout line, loading their groceries onto the belt. Just as they finished unloading the last of the items, she saw Steve coming around the corner, his cool facade faded, and something like relief crossing his face when he spotted them.
He walked over, avoiding Dustin's smirk and Dove's raised eyebrow, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Hey, sorry about that," he muttered, almost sheepishly.
Dove shrugged. "It's fine," she said, offering him a small smile before turning back to pay for her groceries.
As they loaded up all of the meat onto the belt, the cashier eyed them curiously. Her fingers moved methodically over the barcodes, her brow furrowing deeper with every pack of meat that slid across the scanner.
"That's a lot of meat," she remarked, glancing up at Steve.
Steve gave a tight-lipped smile, clearly uncomfortable. "Uh, yeah. Big barbecue," he mumbled.
The cashier's raised eyebrow told them she didn't buy it, but she didn't push for details. The total rang up on the register, an eye-popping number that made Steve wince as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his dad's credit card. He swiped it quickly, avoiding eye contact with the cashier as she bagged their haul.
"Thanks," Steve muttered as they gathered the bags and hurried out of the store.
They loaded up the bags into Steve's trunk and drove back to the Henderson house. Once they arrived, Dove took the regular groceries inside, carefully putting them away while Dustin and Steve headed to the shed to gather more supplies for their plan.
As she finished putting away the last of the groceries, Dove heard footsteps behind her. She turned just as Steve walked into the kitchen, heading straight for the cupboard under the sink. He rummaged around, pulling out three pairs of rubber gloves, and then paused, glancing up at her.
Dove could feel his gaze lingering, and she slowly closed the fridge, raising an eyebrow at him. "Got something to say, Harrington?"
Steve shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, about what happened back at the grocery store.." he started, his voice trailing off as he tried to find the right words.
Dove held up a hand, cutting him off. "Save it, Steve. I don't need some half-assed apology." She crossed her arms, her gaze steady. "If you want to keep up the cool guy charade with them, that's on you. You don't have to pretend around me, remember?"
Steve stared at her, taken aback, but she continued, her voice colder than before. "Let's just get this over with and then we can go back to being strangers."
Steve opened his mouth to protest, but before he could get a word out, Dove was already halfway to the front door, her back turned, leaving him no chance to respond.
He let out a quiet sigh, clenching the rubber gloves in his hand as he followed her.
The drive to the old railroad tracks was quiet, the tension thick in the air. Steve gripped the steering wheel, occasionally glancing over at Dove, who sat rigidly beside him, staring out the window. Dustin was in the back seat, oblivious to the silent standoff up front, muttering something under his breath about bait and positioning, fully focused on the plan.
As they approached the tracks, the landscape grew sparse, trees lining the dirt road and casting long shadows in the late afternoon sun. Steve pulled over near a gravel clearing, cutting the engine, and for a moment, they all just sat there, taking in the stillness of the place.
Dove was the first to step out of the car, heading straight to the trunk. She grabbed one of the backpacks Dustin had packed earlier, feeling the weight of supplies settle against her shoulders as she shrugged it on. Dustin and Steve climbed out of the car after her, Dustin reaching into the trunk to retrieve his own bag.
Just as he did, a voice crackled through his walkie, muffled and distorted but unmistakably urgent. Dustin's eyes widened, and he quickly unclipped it from his belt, bringing it closer to his ear.
"Dustin! This is Lucas. Do you copy?"
"Hold on a sec," Dustin murmured, taking a few steps away from them and lifting the walkie to his mouth to answer.
Without a word, Dove reached into the trunk, grabbing a pair of rubber gloves and tossing them at Steve, who barely caught them in time. She slipped on her own gloves and then hefted up a bucket of raw meat, her expression focused and determined.
Steve pulled on his gloves, glancing at her as he did. "You always this prepared?" he asked with a small smile, trying to ease the tension.
Dove shot him a look, her expression cool. "When it involves potentially lethal monsters? Yeah, I am."
Steve's smile faded slightly, but he nodded, reaching into the trunk for his own bucket of meat. After a brief pause, he opened his mouth to say something else, his tone light. "Look, Dove—"
"Don't," Dove cut him off, her voice firm. "Just.. don't." She shook her head, focusing on the task ahead as she adjusted her grip on the bucket.
Dustin came bounding back toward them, clipping the walkie-talkie to his belt. "Lucas is on his way. Everything's good to go."
They moved in silence for a while, laying down chunks of raw meat along the tracks, the sound of rustling leaves and the occasional call of birds the only things breaking the quiet. After a few minutes, they had laid down a decent trail, with pieces of meat spaced every few feet. The rhythmic thud of raw meat hitting the ground filled the space between them, a strange sort of calm before the chaos they were preparing for.
Dove walked a few steps ahead of Steve and Dustin, her mind focused on the task at hand. She tossed another chunk of meat onto the ground, barely paying attention to the faint conversation happening behind her. But as the sound of their voices floated closer, her curiosity piqued.
Dustin was talking, his voice quieter than usual, but the words were clear enough for Dove to catch.
"It's just.. I thought if I kept Dart, maybe it would make her like me, you know?" Dustin said, his tone carrying a hint of vulnerability.
Dove's hand paused mid-air as she threw down another piece of meat, her brow furrowing slightly. She listened closer, not turning around, straining to catch more of what her brother was saying. This was news to her—Dustin had kept Dart for a girl?
Steve's disbelieving voice broke through. "All right, so let me get this straight. You kept something you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl who you just met?" There was a note of amusement, but mostly surprise in his tone.
Dustin sighed. "That's grossly oversimplifying things," he mumbled.
"I mean, why would a girl like some nasty slug anyway?" Steve continued, smirking.
"An interdimensional slug," Dustin corrected, his voice filled with pride. "Because it's awesome."
Steve chuckled. "Well, even if she thought it was cool, which she didn't, I just.. I don't know, I just feel like you're trying way too hard."
Dove could hear the frustration in Dustin's voice as he shot back, "Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, all right?"
Steve laughed. "It's not about the hair, man," he said, though Dove noticed the slight pride in his tone. "The key with girls is just.. just acting like you don't care. It drives them nuts." Dove scoffed, unable to suppress a laugh. "What? You don't agree?" Steve asked, raising an eyebrow.
Dove stopped in her tracks and spun around. "Why is it that men always go to other men for advice on how to get women?" she asked, shaking her head. She turned her focus to Dustin, deliberately ignoring Steve's gaze.
"Dustin, listen to me. You are smart, funny, and so much fun to be around. Any girl would be lucky to have you. Just be yourself, and if she doesn't like you, that's her loss."
Dove glanced at Steve as she finished, noticing an odd expression on his face—something between admiration and confusion. She turned away quickly, refocusing on the task at hand.
But her words barely registered with Dustin, who immediately turned back to Steve, his eyes wide with curiosity. "Okay, so after I pretend not to care, then what?"
Dove sighed, muttering to herself, "Unbelievable."
"Then you wait until.." Steve paused, searching for the right words. "Until you feel it."
"Feel what?" Dustin asked.
Steve hesitated, his gaze drifting toward Dove as she walked ahead of them, her silhouette softened by the sun filtering through the trees. Something clicked inside him, an awareness he hadn't fully grasped until now. He turned back to Dustin, his voice low, almost reverent. "Electricity," he muttered, the word heavy on his lips. "You feel that, and then you make your move."
"So that's when you kiss her?" Dustin asked, his voice breaking the tension, oblivious to the shift in Steve's expression.
Steve chuckled, shaking off the strange feeling in his chest. "Slow down, Romeo," he said, giving Dustin a playful nudge. "Some girls, yeah, they want you to be aggressive. You know, strong, hot and heavy, like a... I don't know, like a lion."
Dove let out an involuntary scoff, which Steve ignored, leaning in a little closer to Dustin as if he were letting him in on a great secret. "But others, you gotta be slow, you gotta be stealthy, like a ninja."
Dove suppressed a grin, finding the whole conversation ridiculous, but a tiny part of her—deep down—wondered where she might fit into those categories. She quickly shoved the thought aside, annoyed with herself for even entertaining it.
"What type is Nancy?" Dustin asked, his curiosity undeterred.
Steve hesitated, the confident smirk slipping from his face for a brief moment. He looked down, his voice softer than before. "Nancy.. well, she's different. She's.. not like other girls."
Dustin nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, she seems pretty special."
"Yeah, she is," Steve agreed, his voice distant, laced with a hint of something bittersweet, as if he were caught between memory and reality.
Dove clenched her jaw, feeling a pang of irritation creep in at the conversation.
Dustin, unaware of the tension brewing around him, kept going. "But this girl's special too. It's just.. like, something about her."
Steve nodded absentmindedly, his gaze flickering back to Dove as she walked ahead, her shoulders squared and focused on the path. That something Dustin mentioned lingered in his mind, stirring a feeling in Steve he wasn't quite ready to confront.
"Whoa, whoa, hey," Steve said, suddenly stopping in his tracks. Dustin looked up at him, confused. "You're not falling in love with this girl, are you?"
Dove stopped, too, turning to face them both. Dustin's face turned a deep shade of red as he shook his head quickly. "Uh, no. No way."
"Good," Steve said, half-joking but with an edge of seriousness. "She's only gonna break your heart, and you're way too young for that shit."
"Agreed," Dove chimed in, her voice coming out a bit sharper than she intended. Both boys looked up at her, surprised by the tone, but she ignored their stares. "Now, if you're done giving my baby brother terrible dating advice—" she gestured toward the junkyard, which lay just ahead of them, "—let's get on with the plan."
Steve nodded, clearly relieved to move on, though a lingering awkwardness remained between him and Dove. They continued forward, the strange conversation hanging in the air as they neared the junkyard.
As they reached the fence, Steve launched into a detailed, almost proud explanation of the secret to his hair routine for Dustin, who listened with wide-eyed fascination. Dove rolled her eyes, tossing her now-empty bucket over the fence and climbing up and over.
Dove watched as Steve climbed the fence with an easy grace, his movements practiced, like he'd done this a million times before. She couldn't help but be a little impressed, though she quickly turned her gaze away, pretending to focus on the scattered piles of junk around them.
Dustin, on the other hand, struggled a bit as he hoisted himself up, his feet slipping against the metal. Steve reached out to help, but Dustin shot him a determined look, brushing off the offer. "I got it!" he insisted, his voice laced with stubborn pride.
Steve raised his hands in surrender, stepping back to let Dustin figure it out on his own. Dove stifled a grin, watching as Dustin finally made it over and landed, a little unsteady, beside them.
The trio moved deeper into the junkyard, the mid-afternoon sun beating down on their backs. The sky was a flawless blue, free of clouds, casting long shadows over the piles of rusted metal and discarded machinery that littered the area. The air smelled of old gasoline and dust, and the crunch of gravel under their shoes was the only sound that broke the eerie quiet.
Steve and Dustin scattered pieces of raw meat as they walked, each step a reminder of the danger they were preparing for. Dove walked slightly ahead, her eyes scanning the familiar yet unsettling surroundings. The junkyard was like something out of a forgotten world—piles of twisted metal, broken cars, and abandoned buses that had long since fallen into decay. It was the perfect place for a trap, but it still gave her an uneasy feeling.
As they neared the old rusted bus, Dove stepped forward, her attention drawn to the large vehicle. The bus, once bright yellow, had faded to a dirty, peeling rust color, its windows cracked and its body dented from years of neglect. She pulled off her yellow rubber gloves, tossing them aside as she stepped up into the bus through the side door.
Inside, the air was stale, and the worn leather seats creaked under her weight as she climbed onto one of them. Dust floated in the streams of sunlight that filtered through the cracked windows. Dove felt a strange sense of calm inside the bus, even though she knew what was coming.
Dove hoisted herself up, her head poking through the emergency exit of the rusted bus, and spotted Lucas pedaling hard with the redheaded girl—Max—seated behind him. Her eyes flicked to Dustin, who stood a few feet away, watching them pull up with that unmistakable hint of jealousy on his face. So, this is her, Dove thought, feeling a pang of sympathy for her brother. He was trying so hard, and all she wanted was for things to go smoothly—for him, for all of them.
With a sigh, she pulled herself back inside the bus and quickly jumped down from the seat, ready to join the others. But as her sneakers hit the floor, she almost ran straight into Steve, who was making his way down the aisle with an old metal lawn chair slung over his shoulder.
"Whoa—" Steve muttered, stopping short as Dove nearly collided with him. His eyes widened slightly, and for a brief moment, they were closer than either of them had anticipated.
Dove's breath caught in her throat, and she took a hurried step back, her pulse quickening. "Sorry," she said quickly, her voice coming out a little shakier than she intended.
Steve's mouth quirked up into a small smile, but he didn't move. "No worries," he replied, though his eyes lingered on her for just a second longer than they should have.
Feeling the tension rise, Dove spun on her heel and rushed toward the bus's front exit, leaving Steve standing there, dumbfounded. She practically flew off the bus, her heart pounding as she tried to shake off the strange, uncomfortable feeling that had crept in so suddenly.
Steve watched her go, confusion flickering in his eyes as he stood there, clutching the metal lawn chair. For a moment, he just stared at the empty space she left behind, his mind racing to catch up with what had just happened. Letting out a sigh, he turned, swinging the chair around and wedging it securely against one of the bus windows to barricade it, forcing his attention back to the task at hand.
Once Dove rushed off the bus, she found herself face to face with Max. Without exchanging many words, the two girls fell into step, gathering scraps of metal and debris scattered throughout the junkyard. It was a quiet, unspoken agreement—they needed to be ready, and that meant fortifying their defenses.
For hours, they worked tirelessly alongside Steve, Dustin, and Lucas. Dove and Max rolled heavy, rusted barrels into place, forming makeshift barricades around the perimeter. They scavenged through piles of scrap, nailing pieces of metal to the inside of the bus windows and doors, reinforcing any weak points they could find. The sharp clang of metal on metal echoed through the junkyard, their efforts fueled by the urgency of the approaching danger.
As the afternoon wore on, the sky slowly shifted, the sun dipping lower, casting long shadows across the junkyard. The heat of the day was giving way to the coolness of the evening, and the sense of impending doom hung heavy in the air.
Finally, as the sun began to set, Steve stood near the bus, holding a red gas can in his hands. He moved with purpose, drawing a thin line of gasoline from the pile of meat they had scattered earlier, all the way to the door of the bus. The pungent smell of gasoline filled the air, mingling with the rust and dust that surrounded them.
Dove, now perched on the roof of the bus, wiped the sweat from her brow. She had spent the last hour stacking old tires along the edge, creating a barrier that would help shield them from whatever was coming. From her vantage point, she could see the entire junkyard—the piles of debris, the barricades, the rusty vehicles. Everything looked ominous in the fading light, as if the junkyard itself had transformed into something much more sinister.
The sun slipped below the horizon, casting the junkyard into deep hues of orange and purple. The air cooled quickly, and an eerie fog began to settle on the ground, creeping between the piles of scrap and rolling slowly toward the bus. The fog clung to the earth, thick and unsettling, adding to the growing sense of dread.
Satisfied with her work, Dove climbed back down into the bus, her shoes landing with a thud on the floor. The rest of the group was already inside—Dustin at the door, securing it behind them. Steve was checking the barricades one last time, his expression tense, while Max sat on one of the bus seats, her leg bouncing anxiously.
Lucas, armed with a pair of binoculars, climbed onto the roof, taking up his position as lookout. The darkness intensified quickly, the last traces of sunlight disappearing behind the horizon, leaving them in near-blackness save for the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the fog.
The atmosphere was suffocating, the quiet so thick it pressed down on them from all sides. Dove sat down on one of the seats, her heart pounding in her chest as the reality of what was about to happen fully settled in. Outside, the world felt still—too still.
The waiting had begun.