the world had ended twice for her.

once, when the dead rose.

twice, when the prison fell.

after that, everything blurred—gunfire, screaming, the ground shaking beneath her feet as the only place she’d ever felt safe collapsed into nothing. she ran. not because she wanted to, but because she had to. and when it was over, when the smoke settled, she was alone.

woodbury was gone. the prison was gone. everything was gone.

she told herself it didn’t matter. that it never had.

but then, months later, standing in the middle of alexandria’s bright, quiet streets, she heard a voice she never thought she’d hear again.

“no way.”

her breath caught. she turned slowly.

carl.

he was taller. older, somehow, even though it had only been months. the sheriff’s hat sat low over his hair, shadowing his face, but she could still see the shock in his eyes. like he was looking at a ghost.

maybe he was.

rick stood beside him, tense and watchful. other familiar faces lingered nearby—people she once fought alongside, people who had assumed she was dead. maybe she had been, in a way.

carl took a step forward, then stopped. his brows furrowed, his lips parting slightly like he had a hundred things to say but didn’t know where to start.

she swallowed, gripping the strap of her bag like it was the only thing keeping her upright.

“you’re alive,” he finally said.

his voice was quieter than she remembered. less sharp, less certain.

her chest ached.

“i guess i am.”

a beat of silence. heavy. suffocating.

then, his expression shifted—just slightly, but enough. the corners of his mouth twitched, not quite a smile, but not far from one.

“you look like shit.”

a startled laugh bubbled up in her throat, sharp and sudden. she hadn’t laughed in a long time.

“you too.”

he huffed, shaking his head. “i thought—” he stopped, jaw clenching. “i didn’t think i’d see you again.”