NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • If you think you know the truth behind Dr. Brenner’s experiments at Hawkins Laboratory, prepare to have your mind turned Upside Down in the first official Stranger Things novel—“the prequel story that fans have been waiting for” ( Kirkus Reviews ). It’s the summer of 1969, and the shock of conflict reverberates through the youth of America. As a student at a quiet college campus in the heartland of Indiana, Terry Ives couldn’t be farther from the front lines of Vietnam or the protests in Washington.   But the world is changing, and Terry isn’t content to watch. When word gets around about an important government experiment in the small town of Hawkins, she signs on as a test subject for the project, code-named MKULTRA. The remote lab, deep in the woods, contains a mystery Terry is determined to uncover.   Behind the walls of Hawkins National Laboratory—and the piercing gaze of its director, Dr. Martin Brenner—lurks a conspiracy greater than Terry could have ever imagined. To face it, she’ll need the help of her fellow test subjects.   Amid the rising tensions of the new decade, Terry Ives and Martin Brenner have begun a different kind of war—one where the human mind is the battlefield. “You’re left hungry for more, but in the best way possible, as the book manages the balancing act between interconnected prequel and standalone story.” —Cinelinx   “ Suspicious Minds  is the prequel story that fans have been waiting for.” — Kirkus Reviews   “Highly recommended for those readers interested in expanding their knowledge of the  Stranger Things’  universe, this book is also a dark and captivating story that will stick in the readers’ minds even if they are not fans of the franchise.” —The Unseen Library Gwenda Bond writes YA and children’s fiction, among other things. Her novels include the Lois Lane series ( Fallout, Double Down, Triple Threat ), which brings the iconic comic book character front and center, and the Cirque American series ( Girl on a Wire, Girl Over Paris, Girl in the Shadows ), about daredevil heroines who discover magic and mystery lurking under the big top. She and her husband, Christopher Rowe, also co-write a middle-grade series, The Supernormal Sleuthing Service. Bond’s nonfiction writing has appeared in the Los Angeles Times, Publishers Weekly, Locus, and many other publications. She has an MFA in writing from the Vermont College of Fine Arts. She lives in a hundred-year-old house in Lexington, Kentucky, with her husband and their unruly pets. There are rumors she escaped from a screwball comedy, and she might have a journalism degree because of her childhood love of Lois Lane. PROLOGUE July 1969 Hawkins National Laboratory Hawkins, Indiana The man drove an immaculate black car along a flat Indiana road, slowing when he came to a chain link gate with a Restricted Area sign. The guard stationed there peered in the window for the briefest moment, then checked his license plate and waved him through. The lab clearly anticipated his arrival. Maybe they’d even followed the directions and specifications he sent ahead about preparing his new domain. When he reached the next guard booth, he cranked down the window to present his identification to the soldier serving as security officer. The soldier studied his license and avoided looking him in the eye. People often did. He had nothing but attention for new people, at least at first—an assessment quick as a thought, cataloguing them: sex, height, weight, ethnicity, and from there a guess at intelligence, and then, most important, a guess at potential. Almost everyone was less interesting after the last. But he never gave up. Looking, assessing, was second nature, a crucial element of his work. Most people had nothing to interest him, but those who did…  They were why he was here. This soldier was easy to size up: male, 5’8”, 180 pounds, white, average intelligence, potential…fulfilled by sitting in a guard booth checking IDs with a sidearm he probably never used at his hip.  “Welcome, Mr. Martin Brenner,” the soldier said finally, squinting between the man and the plastic card. Funny that his ID contained some of the information Brenner would have wanted if he were looking at himself: male, 6’1”, 195 pounds, white. The rest: genius IQ, potential…limitless. “We were told to expect you,” the soldier added.  “Dr. Brenner,” he corrected the man, but gently. The narrowing of a gaze that still didn’t quite look at Brenner but darted into the backseat where five-year-old subject Eight slept curled against the door. Her hands were balled into fists under her small chin. He’d preferred to oversee her transport to the new facility himself. “Yes, Dr. Brenner,” the guard said. “Who’s the girl? Your daughter?” The skepticism came through. Eight’s skin was a rich shade of brown in contrast to his own milky pale hue, which Brenner could have told the man meant nothing. But it was