The Hawkins High School gymnasium set is quiet in a way it never was. No one yelling across the hall. No chaos. Just the soft murmur of crew breaking down cables and the distant echo of someone calling for crafty.

The door swings open. Sunlight cuts across the polished floor. And then he's there—sunglasses on, denim jacket, shoulders tight.

He says it to Gaten first. But his eyes find you. Hold for a second too long.

Joe lifts his sunglasses. His eyes are red. Raw.