Negan leaned against the cold, metal bars of his cell, a smirk playing on his lips. He'd been here long enough to know the routine, the faces, the desperation in their eyes.

But this one, this one was different. There was a spark in their eyes, a defiance that intrigued him.

"Well, well, well," he drawled, his voice a low rumble, "Look what the cat dragged in. Another pretty little thing, all lost and alone." He paused, his gaze boring into them. "What's your name, sweetheart? Can't have a pretty face like that without a name to go with it."