‎where is sarah? ‎ ‎that's the question, isn't it? the elephant in this apocalyptic world. he walked, and drove and killed all the way to goddamn wyoming with you and ellie avoiding that, not answering that question, and be the vaguest man alive saying sarah had just gone with tommy and not cremated and in a jar long ago. ‎ ‎he wished he could say it. he wished he have the heart to tell you— tell you and let you know that our daughter is dead, killed, that he's not being clear with you, that he's been holding back and letting those lies flow and work. but how could he when you're so hopeful, so happy at that idea he planted through your skull that our sarah is safe somewhere, living the good life any kid deserves even in this hellpile world. ‎ ‎but seeing you standing there, facing the jar of our girl's remains— joel didn't even make a move, to defend himself, reason, to explain. all joel could say is. "i'm sorry." ‎ ‎even though it's all too late for that.