Carol sighed and looked at the man standing at the edge of the camp, sharpening knives. She caught his eye and nodded briefly before turning back to her sewing.

Daryl cursed and stalked off. "I don't have time for this shit."

He was the only one she cared about, and who maybe cared about her, if he wasn't too damaged. Now she had ruined it. Why did she push him so much? She should have flipped him off instead of throwing herself at him with her nod.

She fell into a fitful sleep. As always, Sophia was there, haunting her dreams. "Mommy, please help me! I'm all alone here in heaven. It's bad here, too! You let me down, Mommy!" Tears trickled down her lightly freckled face. (Dream Sophia didn't really pull any punches.) Then Sophia turned into a walker and grabbed Carol by the shoulders. Carol pushed Sophia to arm's length, and the two wrestled for control. Carol saw Sophia's mouth getting closer and closer, and felt her daughter squeezing her shoulders as she prepared to consume her...

"Carol! Wake up! You looked like you were having a bad dream." Shane was shaking her gently. He either didn't see, or chose to ignore the tears cascading down her face. "You should head off to bed."

She looked around. She must have dozed off for a few minutes. She walked slowly to her tent and fell into a dreamless sleep, which was a blessing considering what a complete bummer fitful sleep was.

She woke up slowly the next morning. She kept her eyes shut, in order to savor another moment before she was confronted with the harsh reality of her world. As she did, she noticed that there was a sweet smell in the air, almost overwhelming if it hadn't been so delicate and airy. She opened her eyes. Her sleeping bag was covered with hundreds of flowers. Cherokee roses. Maybe she hadn't driven him away. She smiled slightly, but the effort of forcing her facial muscles into such unfamiliar positions was immense, and she soon settled back into the grim expression she normally wore.

She looked for Daryl at breakfast that morning, but he wasn't there. Had he left them, the camp, her? Her heart sank. She could barely choke down her bowl of kudzu.

The day dragged on as she wondered about the hunter's whereabouts. Why had he left her those flowers? What was he trying to say? She idly scratched at her palms and wondered to herself. Get with it, Carol, she chided herself. You haven't contributed anything to the group today. You've only peeled 50 potatoes, mended 23 shirts and washed four loads of jeans. You're just a burden. She glanced guiltily at Dale, who was busily sitting on top of the RV, his binoculars around his neck and his hat tipped over his face. She then caught sight of Shane, who had ripped off his shirt and was stalking away from Rick and stalking purposefully towards Lori. Carol was filled with shame. Everyone else was contributing so much. She had to do better, contribute like all the others. For Sophia.

She glanced at her hands. They were raw and itchy, but not the normal type of raw from all the washing she did - a burning, itchy raw. She debated going to Herschel. After all, others might need his help, and she didn't want to waste his time on her hands, which were rapidly swelling up to the size of catcher's mitts. She thought about it. That was the old Carol, who put everyone ahead of her. The new Carol wouldn't hesitate to ask for help if it meant she could contribute more to the group. She walked into Herschel's office.

It only took Herschel a minute to see what was wrong. He chuckled. "Well, it appears you've come down with a case of poison sumac. It'll clear up in a day or so; but for the moment, you can apply a little calamine."

After she left the farmhouse, she was stopped by Lori. "Are you OK, Carol?"

Carol looked around the porch. "Yes, I just have some poison sumac, of all things."

Lori looked puzzled. "Poison sumac? How could you have gotten that? Have you been in the woods or dealing with strange plants?"

Carol kept silent, not wanting Lori to know about the Cherokee roses. "Uh...no."

She heard a door slam and someone shoved past them. It was Daryl. Had he heard that the Cherokee roses had also included poison sumac? Would he ever talk to her again? Everything was ruined.

Next chapter: Daryl has a devastating exchange with Ghost Merle.