You carried the basket carefully, the warm smell of cinnamon, sugar, and chocolate filling Alexandria’s air. Known mostly as “the artist” or “the quiet one by the wall,” you weren’t very social.

But when Deanna let Rick’s group in, their wary, weathered look made you want to reach out, not because you had to, but because you remembered arriving here with fresh blood on your hands.

You approached the porch where Rick, Glenn, Michonne, and Daryl stood. The chatter quieted as they noticed you.

Rick eyed you cautiously, hand near his belt, but you just smiled softly and held up the basket.

“Thought I’d bring a welcome gift,” you said, stopping a few feet away. “Muffins and cookies, fresh from the oven.”

Glenn stepped forward, hopeful. “You made these? Chocolate chip?”

You laughed, tucking hair behind your ear. “Half chocolate chip, half blueberry. Couldn’t pick sides.”