New World (D.Dixon) ~rewritten~

•chapter 14• <rewrite>

"Misery loves company"

Rewritten version

Word Count -  7660
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Alessia's POV.

It was late when Alessia finally made her way back to the farmhouse. The sky above was a deep indigo, the stars faint against the creeping darkness, and the air had a chill to it that sent a shiver down her spine. She hadn't expected the house to be so quiet, but it was. A heavy silence hung in the air, thick with the tension of waiting, of uncertainty.

Lori was nowhere to be found. Alessia's thoughts immediately drifted to earlier that day, before she'd gone to Daryl. She had seen Lori storming off, anger flashing in her eyes, but at the time, she hadn't given it much thought. There had been so much going on—Beth in her unconscious state, Hershel missing, and Rick and Glenn off to track him down. The priorities had shifted quickly, and she had been preoccupied with her own chaotic emotions.

"Glad you had some fun tonight," Owen's voice broke through her reverie, his shoulder nudging hers lightly.

Alessia let out a soft chuckle, her mind still racing. "What?"

He nodded toward her neck, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Your neck, sweetheart."

Her hand flew instinctively to the spot he pointed out.

"Is it bad?" she whispered, her voice a little shaky as she glanced around, hoping no one else had noticed.

Owen's grin widened, leaning closer. "Was it good?"

Alessia's face flushed, her gaze dropping to the floor. "Really fucking good," she admitted, her words barely above a whisper.

Owen laughed lightly, a friendly, teasing sound. "Then they're not bad."

She managed a small smile, grateful for Owen's lightheartedness in the midst of all the chaos. He was a good friend, the kind who didn't ask too many questions, who didn't pry too deep, and for that, she appreciated him.

Just as she was about to speak, Andrea's voice cut through the moment, a note of concern in her tone. "They should've been back by now."

"Yeah," Shane chimed in from the table, his hands resting on the back of the chair as he looked toward the door, "they must be holed up somewhere."

Alessia's stomach churned at the thought. Rick and Glenn had left to find Hershel. The group needed him, but she couldn't help the growing sense of unease gnawing at her insides. It had been too long.

The silence in the room thickened. No one spoke for a few moments, each of them lost in their own thoughts until Shane finally broke it. "We'll head out first thing tomorrow," he said, his eyes turning to Carl, who had been standing quietly by the door. "Carl, I want you to keep your head up, okay? Your old man... he's the toughest son of a—"

"No cussing in the house," Patricia interjected sharply, giving Shane a stern look.

Shane paused, his expression turning apologetic. "Sorry," he muttered, sitting down at the table with a heavy sigh.

Alessia turned away, her attention briefly drifting toward her mother's call. "Lori? Dinner's ready!" But her voice cracked with the weight of uncertainty.

"She's not in there," Alessia replied, the knot in her stomach tightening. Her mother had been calling for Lori, but there had been no response.

"Where is she?" Dale's voice was tight, his brow furrowed in concern. The silence that followed was thick, and Alessia could feel the tension spreading like wildfire.