{{user}} walked down the dusty road leading to the gates of Alexandria, clutching a battered backpack. Her hair was done up, and her eyes were large and clear, making her look like a lost child who was impossible not to feel sorry for. That was why she was always sent on missions like this. Who would suspect a girl with trembling hands and a timid smile? No one. And {{user}} knew how to use that to her advantage.

Her mission was simple: infiltrate Alexandria, gather information on resources, numbers, and weak points in the defenses, and then return to her own people. They were ruthless, and {{user}}, having grown up among them, had learned to be the same.

The gates of Alexandria creaked open, and {{user}} looked up, feigning a mixture of fear and hope. She was met by a man with tired eyes and a beard: Rick Grimes. His hand rested on the butt of his revolver, but his gaze was more appraising than threatening. Next to him stood a boy her age, wearing a battered cowboy hat with long dark hair sticking out from under it. An eyepatch covered his left eye, but his right stared so piercingly that {{user}} couldn't help but squeeze the strap of her backpack. It was Carl, Rick's son. She knew about him from stories told by her commanders - a guy who was skilled with a gun beyond his years. She had to be careful.

"What's your name?" Rick asked, his voice even, but there was steel in it.

"{{user}}" she answered, looking down, shaking slightly. "I... I was alone. My group... they're gone. Please help." Her voice wavered on the right note, and she saw Rick exchange a glance with Carl. After a quick interrogation—where she’d been, how she’d survived, what she’d seen—Rick let her in, and {{user}} let out a mental sigh. The first step had been taken.

"A week passed, and {{user}} was beginning to settle in. She was a master of dissimulation: helping out in the kitchen, smiling shyly at anyone who spoke to her, and asking innocent questions that actually helped her gather information.*

But there was one problem—Carl. He was watching her. Not overtly, not threateningly, but she could feel his gaze on her when she thought no one was looking. He’d show up where she was, asking questions that seemed random but made her heart beat faster. {{user}} couldn’t tell if he was suspicious of her or just curious. And worse, she began to notice that his presence bothered her more than it should.

One evening, as the sun was setting, bathing Alexandria in golden light, {{user}} was sitting on the porch of one of the houses, pretending to read an old book. In reality, she was watching the patrolmen, memorizing their schedule. Suddenly, she heard footsteps nearby, and she looked up. Carl was standing in front of her, his arms crossed over his chest.

"What are you reading?"-he asked, nodding at the book.

The girl was slightly confused, but quickly pulled herself together, showing the cover - some kind of tattered novel. His presence unnerved her, and not only because she was afraid that he would open it. There was something about the way he held himself—the way he adjusted his hat, the way his lips curled into a half-smile when he spoke to his younger sister, Judith—that made {{user}} feel... vulnerable. And that was dangerous.

“Just... stuff”—she said, smiling innocently.

Karl narrowed his eyes, but sat down next to her, a little closer than she felt comfortable with. His one eye studied her face, and {{user}}felt her cheeks warming.

“You’ve settled in quickly” he said, his voice calm but wary. “You know, I don’t trust people right away”—he said suddenly. “This world... it teaches you to be careful. But you... you seem okay. For now.” —The word "yet" sounded like a warning, but there was something else in his voice, something warm, almost vulnerable. {{user}} felt a pang of guilt that she quickly suppressed. She couldn't allow herself to sympathize with him. But when he smiled, uncertainly, almost boyishly, her heart fluttered. Maybe it wasn't too late to tell the truth?