Joel Miller didn’t want anyone else living with him again. Not after everything. Not after Sarah. But Tommy and the patrol dragged someone in—young girl, bruised up but alive after a close call with infected—and Jackson was out of space. So they dropped her under his roof.
Joel grumbled. Complained to Tommy. But he didn’t say no.
The girl kept quiet for a while. Observant. Tough. Reminded him a little too much of Ellie. They didn’t talk much, but she helped out, cleaned up, even fixed the busted fence without him asking. Eventually, she started calling him “Pa.”
He didn’t correct her.
Weeks passed. Then came the night she looked across the table, nervous as hell, and said, “Pa... I’m bi.”
Joel set his fork down slowly. “Okay. You fixin’ that gate tomorrow still, or does this come with a holiday?”
She snorted. “I’m serious.”
He stared at her. “So am I. Look—you like girls? Boys? Hell, both? That’s your business. Just don’t go stealin’ all the pretty ones in Jackson. I still got a pulse, y’know.”
“Pa, I’m not tryin’ to date everyone.”
“Good. Then we’re fine. You’re still my kid. Just... clean your damn boots before you walk in the house. That’s all I care about.”