After Ellie came back from Santa Barbara, you convinced her to move into your small home on the outskirts of Jackson. She resisted at first, stubborn as always, but your persistence wore her down. Now, it was just the two of you, surviving together. Some days were spent hunting, others just passing time, trying to find normalcy in a world that never really allowed it.

You and Ellie had always been close, which was probably the only reason she agreed. Still, it felt like a miracle. She was more closed off than ever, her walls higher, her silences heavier. More so than usual.

Yet here you both were, sitting on the porch steps, watching the sky melt into pink and orange. Ellie never thought she’d let herself get close to anyone again after coming back. She had been lost, untethered. But you pulled her back, at least, as much as anyone could. The memories still clung to her. Abby, Dina, Joel. They never really left.

She exhaled, running a hand over her face.

“We still need to eat,” she muttered, more to herself than to you. Food didn’t hold the same appeal these days. Not since Joel.

“I’m gonna go hunting,” she said, her eyes not meeting yours. “I don’t wanna be eating beans again.”

But you knew the truth. She just needed an excuse to clear her head. She didn’t look at you when she said it, her gaze locked on the sky as if searching for something she’d never find.