𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐌 (𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑙 𝐷𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑛)

𝐹𝑖𝑓𝑡𝑦

Two days after questioning, I was finally out of the closet. After much discussion, the majority of Lee's group voted me a permanent member.

I now looked around May's room. Several polaroids taped to the wall. One showed Connor mooning the camera with his middle finger up.

"You can sleep there," May pointed to an empty cot.

Her three mattresses stacked on top of each other were at the opposite end of the room. She volunteered to have me stay with her, but I didn't see this as a fun sleepover. This was Lee's opportunity to stick me with a babysitter.

I set down my blankets and sat on the cot. The stretched out fabric felt stiff under my thighs. It wasn't the most comfortable thing, but it would suffice. May suddenly reached into her back pocket and pulled something out. My heart jumped to my throat as I recognized Daryl's knife.

"Lee said that you could have this back," she handed it to me.

A wave of relief washed over my stomach as I held the knife in my hands once more.

"Thanks," I said.

"It's my turn to be on watch, but I'll see you later. Don't burn the place down while I'm gone."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

May left the room and I waited to hear the door lock behind her, but the sound never came. I turned to see the door wide open. The past few days, I spent my time yearning for the door to be unlocked, to have the freedom to come and go as I pleased. But now, I only felt exposed.

I closed the door and sighed. As much as I wanted to explore the house, I desperately needed a nap. Since arriving, sleep had been scarce. Now that I knew my position in the group was secure, I found myself craving a moment of peace. I messily made my bed, collapsing on the cot.

For now everything was okay.

✯✯✯

I quietly walked to the first floor. Fortunately, no one crossed my path, which is how I wished it would always be. The front door squealed open painfully. I slipped through and let the heavy wooden door shut behind me.

Standing on the porch, I admired the tall perimeter enclosing the house. There was a comfortable amount of space between the two. I didn't feel claustrophobic nor vulnerable. I wondered about getting a garden going.

Muffled sniffles interrupted the quiet. Furrowing my brow, I followed the noise to the side of the house where I recognized Connor's hunched-over figure cradling something in cupped hands.

"Connor?"

His head snapped up at the sound of my voice. Puffy tear-stained eyes met my gaze.

"Is everything okay?"

Connor nodded weakly and looked into his hands. I approached and carefully crouched next to him.

"I can go get someone–"

"No, no," he waved me off. "It's just that–"

He held up a golden wedding band and slowly smiled.

"I'm supposed to be married by now," Connor dropped his hand. For the first time, I noticed a matching ring on his left hand.

"His name was Dan," Connor held the ring to his lips.

"I'm so sorry," I tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Some days, I'm fine and everything is okay. Then it'll just hit me out of nowhere."

Connor sighed heavily and leaned the back of his head against the house.