Future Ghosts • TWD

101. Forgive.

"You can take a seat," the woman said, gesturing towards the big chair across from her. Rosie did so. "Do you mind if I record our chat, Rosie?"

"Why?" Rosie asked, eyeing the camera warily.

"We like to keep a record of these interviews, so we can look back on them. Do you mind?"

"I don't care," Rosie mumbled, shrugging a little in the big chair.

"Great," the woman said.  "So, Rosie... what?"

"Huh?" Rosie asked, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Your full name," the woman elaborated. "Originally, I was under the impression that your last name was Dixon, but Daryl told me otherwise. I was hoping you'd be a bit more cooperative than he was, though. Are you willing to tell me your last name?"

"Um, not Dixon," Rosie said. She started picking at a loose string on the chair she was sitting in. "Rosie Banks," she said.

"What happened to your father, then? If it isn't too sore of a subject."

"He got eaten," Rosie said, seemingly emotionlessly.

"Were you on your own for awhile after that, or were you already with the group?"

"Was already with the group," Rosie answered.

"And when did you become close with Daryl?" the woman asked. Rosie just shrugged. "What's your relationship like with him?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" the woman repeated. Rosie just shrugged. "Is he sort of like a father figure to you, do you think?" was the next question. Rosie just shrugged again, though. "Seeing as you don't have any parents with you, would you prefer to stay with your group or for me to find a different-"

"I wanna stay with them," Rosie said quickly, and began bouncing her leg up and down. "How much longer 'til I can go?" she asked.

"I just have a few more questions," the woman said. "How old are you?"

"Eleven, I think," Rosie replied.

"It must've been hard, losing your father at such a young age. I'm sorry. What about your mother?"

"Momma left when I was a baby."

"So you were never close with her?" the woman asked. Rosie shook her head. "What grade were you last in?"

"Am I gonna have to go to school?" Rosie asked, her face scrunching up to show her distaste.

The woman laughed a little. "It's not the same as how your old school used to be. It's in a garage, and the younger kids only go during the first half of the day. It's not that bad, I assure you. Now, what grade was it?"

"Fourth, but only for, like, two weeks," Rosie said. She chewed on the inside of her lip for a moment. "Am I done yet?"

"Sure."

"God fuckin' damnit," Negan muttered, dropping the video camera down on the table. He had taken it back from Alexandria after his first trip there, but he hadn't thought to look through and check if there was an interview with Rosie until now. Guilt was overwhelming him, which wasn't something he'd experienced since before the end of the world.

The cause of this guilt was a simple note, left on the floor of Rosie's cell. He hadn't found it before because it was shoved underneath the blanket that Rosie had been sleeping on. Laura had been the one to find it and give it to him, and Negan neglected reading it until after the attack on Alexandria, specifically for this reason: the overwhelming guilt.