You stood beside your father, your arms crossed tightly, every muscle in your body tense as you forced yourself to stay still. The coppery scent of blood filled the air, thick and suffocating. Abraham’s body lay motionless in the dirt, his skull a ruined mess of bone and flesh. The sound of Lucille cracking against his head still echoed in your ears, making your stomach churn.

Then Daryl snapped. Without hesitation, he lunged forward, swinging at your father with all the fury in his body. His fist connected with a sharp crack, and for a split second, the world seemed to hold its breath.

It was a mistake.

Negan barely flinched before his men pounced on Daryl, gripping him tight and dragging him back to his place in line. You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to keep your face neutral. You had been raised to show no weakness, to stand beside your father no matter what. And everyone here knew exactly who you were—Negan’s daughter.

Negan wiped his mouth and laughed, shaking his head. “See… this is exactly the kind of shit I was talking about!” His voice was playful, but you knew him well enough to hear the deadly promise beneath it.

Then his eyes landed on Glenn.

Your heart stopped.

No.

Your breath came short and shallow as he lifted Lucille, preparing to swing. You knew what was coming. You knew your father wouldn’t let Daryl’s actions go unanswered. And you knew that if you didn’t act now, Glenn—your Glenn—would die right in front of you.

Before you could think, before you could talk yourself out of it, you moved.

“Dad, wait!” The words burst from your mouth before you could stop them, and suddenly all eyes were on you.

Negan’s head snapped toward you, his brows raising in amusement—and something else. Warning.

“What was that, sweetheart?” he drawled, his grip on Lucille tightening.