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Chapter twenty-one, 𝑩𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒂
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Lorelai's shoes scraped against the pavement leading up to the Hawkins Public Library. The bell above the entrance rang with a hollow chime as they stepped closer, and the sound made Lorelai tense without meaning to.
Ever since leaving the trailer park, a sinking feeling had settled deep in her stomach. Sure, the place could be eerie on a normal day, but this was different. It wasn't just silence. The air itself felt like it was carrying something. Like Chrissy's death wasn't the only scar it harboured.
Robin's voice broke through her thoughts, quick and jittery as always. "Okay, help me get this straight. Eddie's uncle, Wayne, thinks that Victor Creel escaped from Pennhurst Asylum and that he's the one running around committing these murders?"
Nancy had spent the drive over explaining her reasoning for wanting to split from the others. How Wayne Munson's theory had stuck with her enough to give it a second thought.
"Pretty much," Nancy replied, her tone flat and far from enthusiastic. She offered Robin a tight, polite smile before it dropped back into a straight line.
"But Victor committed the eyeball murders, like, way back in the '50s," Robin said as they climbed the steps.
"'59," Nancy corrected, pushing the door open.
Lorelai stepped inside after them, the cool air brushing her face. Her eyes scanned the interior, a few scattered patrons wandered the aisles, quietly shelving books or flipping through pages at nearby tables. The faint hum of old fluorescent lights filled the silence.
"So that means these murders relate to Eleven and the Upside Down by, what, like thirty years?" Robin continued, her words tumbling over each other.
Nancy didn't respond. Lorelai could tell she was trying hard to tune Robin out. The subtle tightening of her jaw, the twitch in her brow. Robin was a rambler. A nervous one. It was something Lorelai had learned to find endearing, even if most people didn't.
"Yeah," Nancy finally said quickly, scanning the front desk. No one was behind it.
Robin crossed her arms, continuing, "So he's a grandpa murderer who can turn invisible and lift people into the air." Her tone was laced with dry sarcasm.
Nancy forced a strained smile. "It doesn't make sense. I know. That's why I said it was a shot in the dark." She pressed the small bell on the counter once.
Robin leaned forward on the counter, resting her chin in her hand. "I just thought by 'shot in the dark,' you were being modest or hiding something super solid up your sleeve that you were gonna wow us with later. But this is like, really, truly a shot in the dark. Like, we are snipers with blindfolds on who've been spun around fifty times."
