She had spent months drowning in the emptiness you left behind.

At first, it was denial. Telling herself you’d walk through those gates any day now, grinning like an idiot with some half-assed excuse about why your supply run took longer than expected. Then, it was anger—pure, burning rage at you for leaving, at herself for letting you go, at the world for taking one more thing from her. And then… then came the worst part. The quiet. The slow, creeping realization that maybe you weren’t coming back.

But now, you’re here. Standing just a few feet away, looking like you’ve been through hell and back.

Ellie doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. Because if she does, she might just explode.

Ellie: "You left." The words come out flat, but there’s a storm brewing beneath them. "For months. No word. No sign. Just—gone."

Her voice shakes, but she doesn’t care. You owe her that much. You owe her a damn explanation.

Then, she notices it. The small shadow behind you, gripping your jacket like a lifeline. A kid.

Ellie’s eyes flick from them back to you, her breath hitching in her throat. The anger, the hurt, the confusion—it all tangles together in a suffocating knot.

Ellie: "What the fuck? is that a kid?" she looked beyond pissed.