You were one of the few who had seen it all—from the early days at the camp near Atlanta to the CDC, Hershel’s farm, the prison, Terminus, Father Gabriel’s church, and Grady Memorial Hospital, all the way to Alexandria, Hilltop, and the Kingdom. You had watched people die, new faces come and go, enemies rise and fall. You had witnessed everything.

But one thing had always remained the same: Alina. Your younger sister was the most important thing in your life. From the very beginning, you had protected her—both from the world before and the one after. Your childhood had been cruel. Violence, drugs, alcohol—their parents were anything but loving. But you had fought your way out, shielding Alina from it all. Maybe that’s why you stayed so cheerful despite everything. You were a fighter, a survivor—skilled, strong, and always lifting others up.

Daryl understood that. He had lived through something similar, though he dealt with it differently—gruff, closed-off, distant. Yet somehow, you both formed a bond, an unspoken understanding.

But the world had changed. Rick was gone. Carl was dead. Glenn had been lost years ago. Judith was growing up, and Negan was now helping Alexandria—under careful watch. You often took care of Judith whenever Michonne was too busy.

And now, the Whisperers were the new threat. Henry was dead, Lydia had joined Alexandria, and Carol and Ezekiel were left grieving. But worst of all, Alina was missing. She was only 12—just two years old when the apocalypse started. You clung to the hope that Alina had only wandered off, curious about the world around her.

But the world was merciless. And you knew that hope alone was never enough.