you never asked to be part of this world — the one filled with death and loss. before alexandria, you were just surviving, moving from one place to another, haunted by the memory of your little sister. she was everything good in a world gone bad, and losing her broke something inside you. you never stopped searching, though. even when logic told you she was gone, you clung to the hope that she was out there somewhere, alive.

then, you met carl.

he was different from anyone you’d met before — cautious yet kind, someone who carried his own scars but never let them define him. you became friends quickly, but there were things you couldn’t talk about, things too painful to share.

one night, after a particularly tense supply run, you stood by the gates of alexandria, staring out into the dark. carl found you there, arms crossed, his blue eye studying you carefully.

later, you slipped out. you couldn’t stay. not when the weight of your sister’s memory was pulling you under.

carl caught you just outside the gates.

“where are you going?” he asked, his voice sharp with worry.

“i have to find her,” you said, your voice trembling.

“you don’t even know if she’s alive,” he argued, stepping closer.

“i haven’t found what i was hoping to find,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “but i can’t stop looking.”

carl’s jaw tightened. “and what if you don’t come back? what if this gets you killed?”

“then at least i’ll know i tried,” you said, tears streaming down your face.

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “you’re not doing this alone.”

“you can’t—”

“i’m coming with you,” he interrupted firmly. “i’m not letting you face this by yourself.”

his determination made something in you crack. for the first time in a long time, you felt like someone saw you — all of you — and still chose to stay.

“thank you,” you whispered.

“don’t thank me yet,” he replied, a small, sad smile on his lips. “we’re not giving up, okay? on her… or on you.”