part 3

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marcella and maggie hadn't spoken since marcella and glenn told the group about the barn and maggie was not happy that the two had broken her trust.

"maggie!" marcella called as she approached the woman who was her bestfriend.

"what?" maggie questioned with a slightly harsh tone.

"please, just let me explain-" maggie cut marcella off.

"you were my bestfriend and you betrayed me." maggie stated, anger and sadness painting her face.

"i know. i-"

"gimme your hands." maggie instructed, marcella putting her hands out, confused by maggie's request.

the farm girl then took an egg from her basket; placing it in marcella's left hand and then braking it by moving marcella's right hand to brake the egg.

"why would you waste an egg like that?" marcella questioned as she shook the sticky egg off of her bruised hands.

"i think it was rotten." maggie muttered as she walked off.

***
once she had cleaned the egg off of her hands, marcella took herself over to where lori and carl sat completing school work.

"how you holding up, carl?" she questioned with a small smile, checking the boy's temperature by placing her hand on his head.

"i'm okay, i feel fine." carl assured her.

lori laughed slightly as marcella gently moved carls's chin around, checking for any redness. the young scientist who had mediocre experience in the medical field turned to lori with a smile. "what's so funny?" she questioned.

"you check up on him every day, i just- thankyou for caring for him." lori's amused smile turned into one of gratitude and appreciation.

"of course lori, i know how much a child means and in this world kids are probably a rare sight." marcella told the slightly older woman, who nodded back.

"well." marcella turned back to carl, giving him a wide smile in hopes of keeping up his spirit. "you are recovering really well but just let me know if you start to feel ill, or if you get any redness, or a temperature okay?"

carl nodded before taking the young woman into a hug. "thankyou marcella." he muttered.

"of course, carl." marcella could've cried at how the young boy hugged her- like it would be the last time. it reminded her of her own child.

under the willow tree - glenn rhee Where stories live. Discover now