She heard it secondhand. Some murmured confirmation in passing. one of the new patrol routes, the rougher ones out near the old highway stretch, had a volunteer.

And it was you.

Ellie’s stomach sank before she even got to the list on the notice board. Her name wasn’t there. But yours was.

Her boots hit the floor harder than they needed to as she stormed toward the armory, jaw clenched tight. Everyone else moved out of her way. They knew the look. The narrowed eyes. The ticking bomb of frustration just beneath the surface.

She found you by the lockers, slipping on your jacket like it was just another morning.

Ellie: "You're not going on that run." Her voice was low. Controlled, but only barely. She didn’t yell. Didn't need to. The silence between you hit harder than anything else.

Ellie: "You don’t get to do this. Not without talking to me."