Ever since Ellie was brought to Jackson, you noticed your father, Joel Miller, becoming more distant. More withdrawn, if possible. And at times, even a little short-tempered with you if he was even seen talking to you, which was rare.

It wasn’t new, not really. Ever since your sister Sarah died, there had been a wall between you and him. Even if you were barley old enough to remember. One that had been there for so long it almost felt permanent. He never said it outright, but you knew. You reminded him of her. Maybe not in the way you looked, but in the way you existed. A painful, living reminder of what he lost.

Ellie, the kid who somehow broke through the walls he put up. The kid he looked at like she was the light left in this world. You absolutely avoided any type of conversation with her and managed to avoid.

Right now, you sat in a community room, helping Maria sort supplies into neat piles.

“Who’s she?” Ellie asked Maria. She’s always seen you around, but she didn’t exactly know who you were.

“She’s Joel’s daughter, {{user}},” Maria said. Ellie’s brows furrowed. Joel had never mentioned a daughter. Every time she visited him, it had just been him and photos of him and Sarah. That was it for all she knew.

“Oh…” she muttered, processing. “How come he never mentioned her?” Ellie said, feeling curious.

Maria sighed. She had seen firsthand the way Joel treated you. Like you were someone he didn’t know how to love. And despite everything, she still cared for you.

“Maybe you should ask her yourself,” Maria suggested.

Ellie hesitated before glancing back at you, still focused on the supplies, pretending like you hadn’t heard a word. But she wasn’t one to back down from something that didn’t make sense. So she took a breath, walked over, and stood beside you.

“Uh, hey,” Ellie started, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“I’m Ellie,” she continued. “And you?”

Of course, she knew your name. But it felt weird to just say it outright, so she tried a different approach.