Welcome to Chapter 13. There are a few changes of POV, and one of them occurs a few hours in the past. Try not to rush through the chapter too quickly, and it should be fine.
Given the way Carrie had fallen asleep with Rick warm against her back, waking up without him the next morning didn't feel like the best start to the day. She was alone when the sound of Judith crying woke her, and the cold sheets behind her were cold, signalling that Rick had been gone for a little while already. The morning greeted her with a head ache, and she grunted as she clumsily reached over to the opposite nightstand where he had left the baby monitor behind. Fumbling with it, she pressed a few buttons before managing to turn it off, bringing her the silence she needed to hear. Laying her head back down, she rubbed her face as she assessed the depth of her hang over, grateful that Rick had made her drink some water the night before.
She closed her eyes and rested a little more, and it was a little after six o'clock when she got out of bed and dressed, listening to the sound of running water from the master en suite while she ate a quick breakfast. She couldn't help but picture Rick up there, remembering how good he had looked last night in her own shower, his hair plastered down and his chest covered in a thick lather of bubbles. Noting that he sure was taking his time up there, she couldn't help but wonder if he was getting up to something, if he was…Shaking her head from those thoughts, which wouldn't help her concentrate on her work, Carrie put some hot water in the sink and began washing the few dishes that where there. Judging by the plastic bowl of dried oatmeal and empty coffee mug, Rick had already been downstairs to feed Judith. Ensuring that the kitchen was clean and tidy, she grabbed her things and headed for the pantry, leaving just as the sound of running water from upstairs stopped.
The Pantry door had been left open the previous night, allowing Carrie to get inside and start her work without disturbing Olivia. It was a good thing too, given the state of her when she came out, her complexion grey and her eyes bloodshot. Whimpering occasionally, Olivia dealt with her hang over while Carrie worked on the inventory, compiling some graphs and making notes of the supplies that needed to be used soon or that were quick to diminish. Quickly entering her happy place, she was pleasantly surprised to find that the time passed quickly, her concentration broken only by Olivia's offer to make a greasy hang over breakfast and then Rick's arrival.
Having flirted with him when he came to get his guns, Carrie felt positively giddy, definitely riding on the high that came following fantastic sex. For the most part, her day was going great. Not content to be cooped up anymore, she limited her time working on the inventory and residents' supply history, not wanting this to be her only task. Though the last thing she wanted to do was face them, Carrie ventured out of the Pantry and said hello to a few of the other women, smiling and making all the right small talk. Just like Rick had assured her, these women were happier pretending that nothing had happened, and for that she was grateful. As if nothing had gone so embarrassingly wrong last night, they chatted about how the party had wound down the previous night, filling Carrie in on the various antics of those a little more inebriated.
Carl passed her while she was outside talking, his expression making him look as though he was heading towards his execution, not his first day back at school. Watching him coming up the road on his crutches with Rick's old hat on his head, Carrie could tell that although Carl was glad to be hanging out with his friends, he would have much rather been outside the walls helping the others. From what she had heard they were some tree branches being cut down to make the same type of spike system they had at the prison…Carrie had to agree with Carl that she'd rather be outside the walls, particularly when she saw that his teacher was Stacey.
"Hey," he greeted her as he walked past, stalling a little while the others went on ahead of him. "Did you see my dad again last night?"
"Yeah," she said, not exactly lying. "He didn't mind that you stayed over at Ron's. He said something about getting the whole bed to himself."
"Cool," he muttered, giving a long sigh as he looked down the road between the townhouses and infirmary. The garage door to their school was wide open, the younger kids beginning to depart while Ron, Mikey and Enid waited patiently.
"Go," she told him encouragingly. "Pretend. It's only four hours."
Grumbling to himself, Carl farewelled her and headed off. Taking note of the time, Carrie excused herself from the others and returned to the Pantry. Passing by the school on the way, she glanced in and saw Carl sitting on one of the desks, swinging his legs and laughing at something…it appeared going to school wasn't quite as awful as he made it out to be. Relaying her plans to Olivia, Carrie grabbed the small folder she was working on and packed it into her bag along with her laptop, deciding she would work on the front porch for the rest of the afternoon. She was halfway home when the sound of her name caught her attention, and when she turned around she found Deanna following her.
"Carrie!" she called out, waving at her to slow down.
Though she smiled as she came to a stop, Carrie's heart began to speed up a little. Last night Rick had warned her that Deanna might be going to ask her about what happened on the supply run, specifically the morning after they led the herd away. To say that she was taken by surprise was an understatement, and she was grateful that Rick had warned her…if Deanna had sprung that on her with little warning, she didn't know how well she would have reacted. Even so, she wasn't sure of how to approach this.
"Hi, Deanna," she smiled, putting on the necessary facade. "How are you?"
To her relief, it seemed that for now Deanna was more concerned with making polite small talk, though she should have known they wouldn't discuss a sensitive subject in the middle of the street. A few minutes passed as they exchanged some pleasantries and discussed how the party wound down, and it was then that Deanna made her intentions clear.
"Could I tempt you with a pot of coffee at my place?" Deanna asked charmingly. "I have desserts left over that no one took home, and I'd like to see how you're settling in."
"Of course," Carrie readily agreed, for a refusal wouldn't have been of any benefit. "That would be nice, thank you."
"Excellent. Shall we say, twenty minutes?"
"That's good for me," she smiled politely. "I'll see you soon."
Taking her leave, Carrie turned away and headed home, briefly closing her eyes the moment she had her back to Deanna. She sent a silent prayer of thanks to Rick, grateful that he had warned her this was coming, regardless of what little information he had given. Deanna had phrased her request in such a way that had she been oblivious to the truth, Carrie wouldn't have known what was coming. If the subject of Granger and that encounter had been brought up without warning, she wasn't sure how she would have reacted, or what she would have said. Her head was spinning, and perhaps wondering if she'd have time to track down Rick and quickly speak to him, she crossed the patio and entered her new home with a sigh of relief.
"The floor's wet," Carol called out the moment the front door opened.
"Oh, sorry," she said hastily, looking down at the floor beneath her feet. She breathed a sigh of relief, seeing that Carol hadn't mopped there quite yet. "I didn-"
"That's alright," Carol nodded, glancing up as she put the mop back into the bucket and wrung it out. "I haven't done the hallway or upstairs yet, so you can go up if you need. Is everything okay? You look a little pale."
Carrie hesitated, a little unsure actually. "Yeah," she nodded. "Deanna wants to see me about something, that's all."
Nodding Carol continued with the cleaning. "I was worried you were coming down sick too."
"Too?" she asked, taking her boots off and leaving them outside the door.
"Rick came home about twenty minutes ago, he's not very well."
"Oh no," she muttered. "Is he puking?" she asked tentatively, her concern for him slowly turning into self-concern…she was a sympathetic vomiter.
Carol nodded, giving a grim smile. "When I checked on him last, he was hugging the toilet bowl. I told him this would happen if he didn't slow down."
"It's not food poisoning? Stomach flu?"
"I don't think so, but I'm cleaning just in case. At least this will force him to take some time off and rest." Carol looked at her now, giving her a friendly smile. "He works too hard."
"Yes, he does," she agreed, slinging her bag back over her shoulder and heading upstairs. As she left, she glanced over her shoulder as Carol got back to cleaning the floors, still wondering what to make of her. Carol had been friendly and welcoming to her, but she still felt as though she was yet to earn her approval.
Though she was sympathetic to Rick's suffering, she was immensely glad that his bedroom door was closed, that she couldn't hear anything going on in his bathroom. If she heard him puking, she'd probably start doing the same. Retreating into the safety of her own bedroom, she set her bag onto the chair and then lay down on her bed. As if knowing Rick was unwell made her nerves even worse, she could feel her stomach churning uncomfortably, apprehensive for the impending conversation with Deanna.
Feeling anxious, she closed her eyes and tried to think, wishing that Rick wasn't unwell. When he'd told her about Deanna's intentions the previous night, they didn't get the chance to really talk about it, given that she hadn't exactly taken the news well. He'd asked her to tell the truth about what he had done, to be frank with Deanna and admit that he had killed three people…but as for Granger, he'd left that open for her. He'd said that it was her choice about how much she shared with Deanna, and that she didn't have to tell her anything if she didn't want to. This was now the second time he'd told her that she didn't owe Deanna anything, that it was up to her how much information she should share.
Twirling her hair around one finger, she took a deep breath as she tried to figure this out, but it was difficult to get her thoughts straight. Problem was, not only had Rick asked for her discretion given that neither of them were meant to know about Deanna's enquiries, he was also the only one who knew about Granger. While he was close with the others, and no doubt they each harboured secrets for one another, Carrie trusted his integrity, confident that he hadn't shared her history with anyone else. That did leave her in a difficult position however…she had no one to talk to right now, no one to give her guidance.
To answer Deanna's enquiry truthfully, she would have to tell her what had started the fight between the two groups, that she'd encountered the absolute last person on earth she wanted to see. But could she tell Deanna about what happened with Granger and his group? Even the thought of verbalising what had happened was difficult to comprehend, let alone actually doing it. When she told Rick at the prison, when she'd admitted that she had killed more people than she originally told him, and why, it had felt different. At that stage, that part of her life had been closed for a long time, she was almost numb to it by then…but now? With Granger's reappearance and the subsequent fight, the wounds were a little fresher.
Again cursing Rick's ill health, she buried her face into her pillow, wishing that he was there. He would know what to say, he'd be able to tell her how to handle it. Yet despite the fact that he requested she tell the truth, the idea that she tell Deanna what he had done felt rather underhanded, like she was throwing him to the wolves or something. She felt a surge of anger, and for a moment she literally had to talk herself down from the desire to confront Deanna about it all…she couldn't admit that she knew this conversation was coming. But it grated on her nerves…if Deanna asked her what Rick had done, she would be putting Carrie in an awful position. She'd literally be asking her to comprise the person who had saved her life, who had saved her more than once.
Sitting upright, Carrie took a few deep breaths as her thoughts began to arrange themselves, and she slowly came to a realisation. Rick kept telling her that she didn't owe Deanna anything…she wasn't indebted to her. Deanna had no right to ask what happened on the supply run - she hadn't been there, she didn't know what that world was like, and with this realisation came frustration. Why the hell couldn't she ask Rick herself what had happened? Deanna seemed like a woman who could handle her own people…why wasn't she asking Rick this herself?
Talking herself down from her momentary surge of frustration, Carrie got to her feet and straightened the comforter on her bed, the simple act of moving her body helping her think. If she was fit and well she would have gone for a run right now, the physical exertion always helping her think, and so she began bustling around her bedroom, keeping her hands busy as she thought. She couldn't go into this coffee date without a plan of some kind, a strategy. Though she trusted and respected Deanna, perhaps this was an opportunity for more than one of them to satisfy the need for greater understanding. Though she'd only been there a few days, Carrie certainly had some questions for Alexandria's leader, and some home truths that she might be able to deliver.
Feeling a little more prepared, she washed her face and then neatened her hair, looking into the mirror. It was nice to finally recognise herself…it was even nicer to recognise the expression on her face. The woman in the mirror was not a shrinking violet or a wallflower. She knew how to stand up for herself, how to stand her ground and passionately argue a case until her throat was hoarse. Deanna's only advantage here was authority, her status…Carrie had no reason to be apprehensive to face her.
Still immensely glad that Rick had forewarned her, Carrie took a deep breath and then departed, prepared for almost anything.
Slowly rousing from a heavy sleep, Rick's eyes fluttered open to reveal darkness, the absence of light gently easing him back into consciousness. Dimly aware that he was warm and comfortable, he lay as he was for a short while, eventually lifting his head to look at his alarm clock. It was after eight o'clock in the evening, and as this occurred to him he glanced into Judith's crib beside his bed…she wasn't there.
Giving a long groan, he sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, hunched forward as he let himself adjust to the change. His mouth was dry and his head sore, the lingering queasiness in his stomach warning him against trying to take a drink from the water bottle that sat innocuously on his nightstand. He vaguely recalled that he had spent all afternoon puking his guts up, his stomach heaving until there was nothing left except his own frustrations. He didn't have the time to be sick, he didn't have the time to spend the day in bed, and yet there he was, unable to do a damn thing about it.
Getting to his feet he rubbed his eyes as he shuffled into his bathroom, and he cringed as he turned on the light. Heading straight to the sink, he throughly washed his face and splashed a little water over the back of his neck, conscious of the dried sweat on his skin. Though he wanted to stand hunched over the sink listening to the running water, he forced himself upright again and brushed his teeth, noting that Carl and Judith's toothbrushes were missing. He had no doubt he had been quarantined from the rest of his family, and when he finally emerged from his bedroom he was unsurprised to find a hand drawn warning sign on the door…signed by Carl. Glad his son could find amusement in his sufferings, Rick slowly made his way downstairs, blearily rubbing the back of his neck as he saw that no one else was home. Detecting the strong smell of disinfectant, he noted that Carol had been cleaning. No doubt she'd been hoping to nip any stomach flu right in the bud, and he appreciated this…he didn't want to make anyone else sick. Dwelling on this, he headed for the refrigerator and grabbed a can of soda, his body telling him he needed sugar and bubbles.
Seeing a silhouette out on the front porch, he dared to try some fresh air, longing to feel it on his skin. He wasn't used to being cooped up inside the way he had been. These days he was quick to grow restless, always feeling like the safety and comfort of his home kept him from achieving the things he and his group needed. Sipping at the soda, he stepped out the front door and breathed in the fresh air, glad that his stomach seemed settled for now. It was Carol who he had seen through the window, and she sat reading a book with a glass of wine, enjoying the peace and quiet of the evening.
"Where is everyone?" he enquired, slumping down onto one of the chairs. Being considerate, he chose the one far away from Carol, just in case.
"Avoiding you," she answered, placing a book mark in the page and then closing her book. "They all went next door for dinner, and they're still there."
It didn't escape his notice that Carol had stayed home to be around for him. "Carl and Judith?"
"They're staying the night," she assured him. "Judith's already asleep in Glenn and Maggie's room, and Carl's going to take the sofa bed. Last I checked, he and Noah were watching Men in Black."
"It'll be good practice for Glenn and Maggie," he smiled, he and Carol being the only ones who knew of Maggie's pregnancy. "Thanks for not making me go to the Infirmary," he muttered, knowing that's normally where those unwell were expected to be quarantined.
"Well, I figured you'd only go kicking and screaming. No one was willing to wrestle you."
Unamused, Rick closed his eyes and put his head back, already feeling like he needed to go back to bed. "No one else is sick?"
"No. I don't think you're contagious."
"Well, thank you Dr Peltier," he joked.
Carol raised her eyebrows at this. "You want me to bring around the real doctor?"
"Sorry," he apologised meekly, not liking her threat. "Carl went to school?"
"Under protest, but yes." There was a short pause, Carol taking a sip of her wine. "You know, I don't like to say I told you so, b-"
Rick scoffed at this.
"But I did tell you so."
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, knowing she was right. She'd told him to take the day off, to get some rest before he made himself sick, and he had just brushed off her concern, not wanting to slow down.
"You need to recover from the supply run. You've only been back three days…four counting today."
"I know."
"Everyone else has had time to recover, except you," she continued lecturing. "You're staying home for a couple of days."
Rick raised his eyebrows at her. "Oh, am I?"
"Yes, you are. I've asked Olivia to not check out your weapons, and the watch shifts know not to let you out of the gate. You're staying home and resting."
"I just need a good night's sleep," he muttered, trying to remember the last time he had one of those, a full night of uninterrupted sleep. "That's all."
"You're staying home tomorrow," Carol said sternly, unafraid of telling a grown man what to do. "Besides, it's Wednesday tomorrow. You need to be better for Spaghetti Tuesday."
He groaned at this, the mere thought of Spaghetti Bolognese making his stomach churn uncomfortably. Though he was reluctant to admit it, perhaps Carol was right…
"Maggie's going to take Judith tomorrow. The work outside the walls will keep going, with or without you."
"I know," he said reluctantly, pushing his hair off his face.
"Then why the urgency to always be out there?"
Rick didn't reply, not knowing how to explain everything that weighed on his mind. How was he supposed to explain the irrational fear that if he didn't achieve everything as soon as possible, something terrible would happen? He used to believe that there would always be time in the future, but with the understanding that there might not be, he found himself all the more determined to make things happen immediately. Realistically he knew it was not possible, particularly when it concerned the Alexandrian's adaptation to the new world, but still the need for it lingered.
"I'll take tomorrow off," he agreed, albeit reluctantly.
"Thank you," she said, as if he was doing her a favour, and not himself. "Deanna and Carrie spoke today."
"Oh?" he said, only mildly interested.
"About what happened the morning after the herd."
"Probably."
Knowing her well, Rick could tell that his nonchalance was grating on Carol's nerves, that she wished he showed more concern than he was presently. Thinking back on their argument about this very subject, he felt guilty for going against Carol's wishes, having warned Carrie about Deanna's line of enquiry. They'd reached an impasse on their argument about whether or not Carrie was entitled to forewarning, and whether or not knowing would influence how much truth she shared. While Rick argued that the conversation with Deanna was not indicative of Carrie's loyalty, Carol disagreed…strongly. Now that the conversation had occurred and Carol was bringing it up, Rick wondered exactly what had been said. Though he'd asked Carrie for her discretion about his warning, he worried that something she had said would indicate to Carol that he had gone behind her back. Though he normally made no apologies for doing what he thought best, this occasion felt particularly deceitful.
"How did it go?" he enquired, validating Carol's desire that he be interested.
"I haven't listened to it yet."
"Then how do you know it happened?"
"She was only gone for half an hour. If it was a normal coffee date, she would have stayed longer.
He sighed, looking at Carol from the corner of his eyes. Though she was completely relaxed in her chair, he could tell that she was on tenterhooks. Feeling bad about it all, he thought about how Carol had looked after his children and made arrangements for them that day, how she'd brought him water and sympathy while he'd been hugging the toilet bowl. "You want to listen to it now?"
"It can wait," she said kindly.
He shook his head. "No, it can't," he disagreed, despite the churning in his stomach. Sitting up properly, he sighed again before standing. "Set it up, I'll be ten minutes."
Though he didn't like to be wasteful, he discarded the rest of the soda down the sink, unable to stomach anymore and knowing that no one else should risk drinking from the can. He headed upstairs and began taking a cool shower, taking the opportunity to freshen himself up and get rid of the dry sweat that had settled on his skin. Thinking about the day, he wondered just how much they had achieved outside the walls. When they had made the spikes at the prison, it had taken over two weeks of them working on the task from sun up to down down, hindered by the few opportunities to be outside the fences while there weren't Walkers about. Once they had enough branches to work with, the actual construction of the spikes had only taken a few days. With the hardware and manpower in Alexandria, the task shouldn't take longer than that.
Still dwelling on the day, Rick wondered about Carrie, still glad that her injured leg generally kept her from venturing far outside the walls. He knew that soon enough she'd be going on supply runs and taking watch for the construction crew, but for now it was comforting to know that she was sticking close to Alexandria. On that note though, Rick knew he was starting to be over protective, and that he had no reason or right to be so. Carrie had always been capable of taking care of herself, and he was not supposed to care so deeply about her welfare that he tried to find excuses to make her stay…even though some had crossed his mind.
Knowing that Carol was waiting for him, Rick finished up quickly and entered his bedroom. Upon finding her sitting on the bed waiting for him, he was glad he'd put the towel around his waist.
"Sorry," she apologised, averting her eyes. "I didn't think…"
He just grunted, not concerned. They'd all seen each other in various states of undress, an unavoidable reality of life at the prison and various months on the road. Heading into the expansive walk in closet, he dressed in there, choosing another set of sweat pants and tee shirt…as he dried his hair he looked around the closet, and even in there he managed to find something to worry about. He thought of the gun he had hidden up top, hoping that Carl never found occasion to use it…and then there was Judith, her pretty summer dresses making him worry about the following winter. Would they have enough warm clothes for her? What if she got ill and they didn't have the right medicine? What if she came down with bronchitis or pneumonia?
It was no wonder he had made himself sick.
Having hung up his towel and brushed his teeth, Rick returned to the bedroom where Carol was waiting. "How long did they talk for?" he asked again.
"About half an hour," she answered, hitting a few buttons on the laptop and then adjusting the volume.
"Shit," he muttered, slipping the headphone into his ear. Slumping down beneath the covers he made himself comfortable. "Wake me if I fall asleep."
Carol pressed the back of her hand to his forehead, feeling for a fever. "We can do this tomorrow," she reminded him.
"No, tonight." He wanted this over with, for Carol to stop holding Carrie at arms length and stop treating her like she wasn't one of the group. "Hit play," he prompted.
When she started the recording, the distant sound of voices was what they first heard, and after recognising Carrie's, Rick figured they must be sitting out on the terrace. Hoping that Deanna didn't close the doors at any stage, Rick reluctantly sat up and gestured for the laptop, giving a heavy sigh as he began adjusting some of the settings. It took a couple of tries, having little experience with surveillance operations, but a minute later the two voices became clear enough for them to listen to properly.
"Milk? Sugar?" Deanna asked.
Rick knew what Carrie's response was going to be, and he wasn't wrong. She'd drink her coffee black and unsweetened, but not if she had other options.
"Yes please, to both."
Passing the laptop back to Carol, Rick returned to his former position with his head upon his pillow, willing himself not to fall asleep as they began to listen attentively.
Her hands politely clasped in her lap, Carrie waited as Deanna poured the coffee into her tea cup, getting the feeling that she enjoyed the opportunity to break out the nice china. She'd brought out a whole tray laden with a tea pot, cups, sugar bowl and creamer, the fine china rather pretty. Perhaps Deanna thought that Carrie's wealthy upbringing had accustomed her to such luxuries, that her family was one that wore only high end clothing and drove expensive cars…she wasn't wrong.
"Milk? Sugar?" Deanna offered.
"Yes please, to both."
Taking her seat, Deanna smiled as they began making small talk, each of then indulging in a piece of caramel shortbread left over from the party. Though the conversation hadn't yet started, Carrie knew she felt in control, that she was ready for this. She had a lot to say today, her only concern was whether or not she ought to say it all. Earlier she had felt rather nervous about the whole thing, but she'd never let herself down in a situation like this…she knew how to handle this.
"Well, Carrie," Deanna began a few minutes later, sitting adjacent to her at the table. She put her cup onto the saucer and looked at Carrie intently, clasping her hands on the table top. "I'm not going to do you the disservice of treating you like a fool. I think it's time I got to the point."
"I think that's a good idea."
"I'd like to talk to you about something that happened on the supply run. Something involving Rick."
Letting a few moments pass before responding, Carrie looked Deanna in the eye. She was a formidable opposition, though not in a bad way. "If it involves Rick, I take it you've spoken to him?"
"No, I haven't."
"Well then I'm surprised with you," she replied, her tone even and pleasant. "You don't want to treat me like a fool…and yet you are."
It appeared Deanna hadn't expected this straightforward response, and she visibly cringed. "It would appear I am, and for that I apologise."
"You apologise, but you're still going to continue?"
Deanna paused, giving Carrie great consideration. Had she not expected this? Had she not expected resistance?
"It's about the morning after you and Rick led the herd away, after you saved the entire group. I've heard conflicting reports as to what happened."
"Such as?" Avoiding an answer, Carrie instead turned it back to Deanna, wanting to determine what she already knew.
"That you returned with weapons and supplies, but that you denied any wrong doing."
"That's correct," she stated. "What's conflicting about that?"
"Rick admitted to Aidan that he killed people for those supplies. Is that true?"
Carrie frowned, pretending to be perplexed. "You just said Rick admitted it."
Taking a sip of her coffee, Deanna's expression gave away no hint of frustration, indicating to Carrie that she was not at all bothered by her evasiveness. "You were there, you were a witness. I'd like to hear your side of the story. Your opinion of what happened."
Delivering her answer bluntly, Carrie wanted to ensure there was no room to question. "You're not entitled to my opinion."
"I am entitled to fact."
"No, you're not. You weren't there, so you don't have any right to sit in judgement of what happened."
"I'm not in judgement, and you're right, I wasn't there," Deanna agreed.
There was a brief pause, the two women considering each other's responses, trying to anticipate where this conversation would take them.
"Why haven't you talked to Rick about this?" Carrie enquired, curious as to her reasons.
A small smile crossed Deanna's face, and she took another sip of her coffee before she answered, taking time to think. "Rick and I…we both have agendas. While we trust one another, our trust has a limit."
Copying her smile, Carrie titled her head a little. "Well, I can't help but wonder why that is," she pondered out loud, though she knew the answer.
"Rick considers me to be inept," Deanna explained. "I consider him to be extreme. Those two don't often coincide well."
Recognising the direction of where she could take this, Carrie changed her tact, intentionally making her tone defensive. "So you employ middle school tactics by going behind his back? By asking his friends to rat him out?
Deanna at least had the decency to look ashamed. "I acknowledge, my asking you these things is not a good reflection of my character. I understand that I'm putting you in a very poor position."
"Poor position? I owe my life to Rick, many times over," she stated, narrowing her eyes. "You know that, and yet you still come to me without giving him the chance to defend himself. It's insulting," she concluded harshly. Her chair scraping loudly, Carrie stood up and turned to leave.
"Carrie, wait!" Deanna said urgently, she too standing up and beginning to follow her. "Please, wait."
Her face turned away, Carrie allowed herself a small smile. This was a carefully considered performance on her part, a strategic bluff that was all about putting Deanna on the defence rather than offence. She had done this type of thing many times, bluffing her way through certain business in order to achieve what she needed to. When done right, the threat of walking away from something two parties had worked very hard for could be highly effective.
"Carrie, wait," Deanna repeated. Intercepting her before she could even reach the open doors, Deanna looked at her imperatively. "Thank you."
Quirking her eyebrow, Carrie looked down at Deanna in faux surprise. On the inside she was smug with success…she'd known Deanna three days, and she already knew how to manage her. "Thank you? For what?"
Relieved that she had stopped to listen, Deanna closed her eyes for a brief moment before explaining. "For showing such strong loyalty," she said sincerely, looking Carrie in the eye. "Loyalty is something we need in people, something we need very much."
"So this was a test?"
"No," Deanna shook her head. "I genuinely want to know what happened out there."
"Out there? Shit happens, and theres's no controlling it."
"Yes, I know."
"No, you don't," she rebuked her. "And it's insulting that you presume you do."
"Then tell me what happened that morning," Deanna requested again, her tone urgent. She really didn't want Carrie to leave. "I want this whole thing clarified, and then put to bed."
Considering this, Carrie took a moment to think, knowing Deanna would give her all the time she needed right now. Rick had told her to be honest about the things he had done, but that anything to do with Granger became her decision. What happened with Granger was her story to tell, and hers alone, and frankly she didn't want to share it with anyone. But just as this thought occurred to her, so too did another. Her story of what happened with Granger was an advantage right now, perhaps the only one she had. If sharing that story with Deanna would prove useful, if it would be to her advantage, then she ought to. At the very least it would get Deanna off Rick's back about that morning, giving her a sufficient justification as to why he had killed someone. At best, the knowledge would further her understanding that people were a significant threat…an understanding that Carrie recognised was still developing. Still standing in front of the open patio doors, Deanna trying to block her exit, she reached her decision.
"That morning, Rick and I went searching for gas, and we ran into a man I met last year. He and his group took advantage of me many times over…they raped me," she explained, keeping her tone even and factual. "I had to let them, because it was the only way I could stop them doing the same thing to the rest of my group."
Deanna nodded grimly, following her story and beginning to understand. "I'm sorry that happened to you."
Carrie continued, having not finished. "When Rick and I saw him that morning, he made it very clear to me that the only way I could protect Rick was on my back with my legs open. Obviously, Rick was not in agreement. A fight broke out, and I killed that man."
There was silence for a moment, Deanna taking this in and trying to be tactful in her response. "Who did Rick kill?"
"Three others who were there."
Though it was subtle, Deanna gave a physical reaction to this answer. "He killed three people?"
"He killed three people who were going to kill us."
"You make it sound so simple."
"It was," Carrie lied. To Rick it was simple…to her, it was unfathomable to kill three innocent people on the off chance that they might attack them. While she recognised Rick's logic and determination that he return to his children alive, she was still struggling to come around to this idea. Regardless, she would stand in his defence, particularly when he could not. "It came down to self-defence…pretty simple. The supplies we took from them were just a matter of convenience."
There was a long pause, Deanna looking away from her. Just as she had done before, Carrie gave Deanna time to think, time to mull over what she had just learnt. This was all new to her, particularly the notion that killing in self-defence was commonplace in the world right now. She was very sheltered by the walls that protected she and her community, and right now that naivety had taken a painful hit.
"I'm sorry that happened to you," she said sincerely, looking Carrie in the eye with the intensity that made her feel like she was looking right inside her mind.
"Thanks," she said shortly. Still acting strategically, she took a step to her left and pretended she still wanted to leave.
"No, Carrie wait," Deanna said, placing her hand on her elbow to stop her. "I know I've insulted you, that I've insulted your loyalty to Rick. But please, don't go."
Pleased that her strategy worked, Carrie kept her face impassive as she looked back at Deanna. "Why?"
"Because I feel you have a lot to say to me," she answered, keeping her hand on Carrie's elbow. "And I feel I should be listening. Perhaps it will be to my benefit."
"You don't want to know what I've got to say."
"Oh, but I do," she insisted gently. "Much like you, I've built my career and reputation in a world dominated by men. I've developed quite a thick skin, not unlike yours I suspect. Please, Carrie. Stay a little longer."
"You want to hear what I have to say?"
"Yes. I would appreciate an honest opinion…particularly yours."
Dragging it out, Carrie feigned extensive consideration. "Alright. I'll stay."
Smiling gratefully, Deanna removed her hand from Carrie's elbow and gestured towards the patio table. They returned to their seats, and there was a short pause while Deanna topped up their coffee.
"So, you want to talk about some home truths?" Carrie began gently when she saw Deanna was ready. "I think they'll be difficult for you to hear."
"I would appreciate the truth," Deanna insisted. "Particularly from a woman such as yourself. I value your input, Carrie. I recognise your experience, and not just from outside those walls."
Nodding, Carrie prepared to speak, though she reminded herself to chose her words carefully. There was a line between giving an honest opinion and being a bitch…she'd often struggled with finding that line. "I've been here only three days, so I acknowledge that my experience in Alexandria is limited."
"But?"
"But, I can see a major flaw here. A flaw that, if handled properly, could lead to greatness, or otherwise to Alexandria's downfall. That flaw is you, Deanna."
A flash of surprise appeared on Deanna's face, but she seemed not to be offended or upset. Rather she nodded to indicate that she was listening, that Carrie should go on.
"You're an appeaser. All politicians are, even the good ones. It's your job to find out what people want, and then to advocate for them, to fight on their behalf. You provide these people with the lifestyle they want, and that's admirable," she remarked, not wanting to detract from what Deanna had done for the community. "But what you're doing now? I don't think for one second that you asked me about Rick and that morning because you were worried about what happened."
"Oh?"
"You're intelligent enough to understand that what happens out there is beyond your control and influence. You asked me this to appease Aidan, to give him resolution in the matter. What you don't understand about this world, is that yes, government is going to be important…but politics is not. You cannot appease people anymore, and yet that's what you're doing. I'm sorry to tell you this, but it's not sustainable, or beneficial."
"I agree," Deanna remarked, momentarily taking Carrie by surprise. "You're right. A politician appeases people…but I disagree with your latter remark. I feel it is beneficial. The people in this community needed a normal life, and that's what I've provided for them. It has been of great benefit to them, to their sense of hope, to their willingness to go on."
"But it's only a short term solution. It's an illusion."
"No, this is real life. A real community, with real families, and normal life."
Carrie shook her head. "I know it feels that way, but normal life from before cannot be sustained in this world. You've fostered a delusion in these people, because you needed to provide them with something to cling to. I understand how it started, and how it's gone on for so long. But by not showing them the reality, you're weakening them. There is no benefit in enabling someone's delusion."
Deanna still seemed unconvinced, and there was a short pause in which the two of them sat thoughtfully. Sipping at her coffee, Carrie tried to put herself in Deanna's shoes, to find a way to explain this to her that she'd be willing to listen to…she claimed now that she was willing, and yet she still showed passive resistance.
"I'd like to tell you about something that happened to me," she began, the embarrassed smile crossing her face before she even began. "It was one of the most embarrassing, naive things I've ever done, so please don't tell a soul."
Deanna's body language indicated how intrigued she was, and she leant forward a little. "I promise. Scout's honour."
"Alright," Carrie said sitting back in the chair and holding her coffee cup. "I was twenty seven, and I'd just started a new job, a promotion I'd worked really hard for. But, in the space of three weeks I found out I was pregnant, caught Logan cheating on me again, served him with divorce papers, and then had a miscarriage."
Deanna's expression of amusement faded quickly, turning into one of sincere empathy. "I'm sorry to hear that. It must have been terrible for you."
"It was. It was pretty awful time in my life," she acknowledged. "I needed to do something for me. I needed something that would make me smile, that would brighten my day, even just for a moment. And then on my way to work one day, there it was, sitting in the store window. A plant."
Again, Deanna's expression changed, and she looked at Carrie in mild amusement again. "A plant?"
"Ah huh," Carrie smiled, remembering the feeling it had brought her. "It was such a stupid thing really, a plant. But it made me smile…I'd never appreciated Daisies until that moment. So I bought it then and there, I took it into my new office, and I put it on my desk where I used to have a honeymoon picture. I don't know why, but I was so damn proud of it. I'd never been good with plants, but I had a good feeling about this one."
"Daisies, huh?" Deanna smiled. "I hope you took care of them."
Carrie nodded. "I gave them a little water every Tuesday and Friday morning. It became a ritual, one as important as the way I took my coffee." She paused, feeling her happy memories begin to subside as she came to the crux of the story. "Took me five weeks to realise the plant was plastic."
"O-oh," Deanna said, her eyes widening.
"It's okay, you can laugh," Carrie assured her, sensing that she was trying to withhold it.
At this prompting, Deanna smiled a little, though she didn't laugh. "Plastic, huh?"
"Yeah," she nodded, her cheeks reddening a little. "Turns out I was the only one who didn't know."
"Did the water overflow?" Deanna enquired. "Is that how you realised?"
Carrie shook her head, this bringing them to the whole point. "No, it didn't. I watered it every Tuesday and Friday…and every Tuesday and Friday, my assistant Jen came into my office and emptied the water. Jen knew what I was going through, she knew how much the plant brightened my day, how proud I was that I kept it alive. She thought she was helping me."
"She wasn't?"
"No, not in any way. She let me keep watering a plastic plant," Carrie said incredulously. "She let me do that for five weeks, when she should have just told me the truth. When I eventually figured it out, I was really upset," she confessed. "More upset than anyone should be over a plastic plant. Jen had good intentions, but she let me invest myself in something that wasn't real. By enabling my delusions, she only made it harder for me when it came time to face reality."
There was a pause now, and Carrie watched as Deanna sat back in her chair, considering what had just been said. Carrie didn't need to ask her if she understood what she was trying to say, if she recognised the subtext of how her potted plant applied to Alexandria. Deanna understood what she was being told…the difficulty was going to be in applying it.
"You understand what I'm saying, don't you?" she confirmed, not wanting the silence to stretch on too long.
"Yes, I believe I do. You feel that I'm enabling a fantasy…that your potted plant is an analogy for the future I have promised this community."
Pausing, Carrie considered this. "Yes, but no. The future you talked about last night, the thriving community, the industry, families and life…that can happen. Of course it can. The potted plant is an analogy for what is happening now. The lifestyle you've created in Alexandria is a fantasy…it's not real, but you're letting your people believe that it is. Your heart is in the right place, but you're enabling their delusions, just like Jen enabled mine."
"I don't see how that's a bad thing, Carrie," Deanna said, clearing her throat as she put her coffee cup aside. "Hope is necessary. Without hope, we won't be able to achieve anything."
"Hope is necessary," she agreed. "But so is reality. Your people have to face what's outside those walls. Reality will walk through those walls without invitation, and it will hit you hard. Deanna, you've weakened your people just as much as you've strengthened them. At first this community was about survival, and then when the walls went up, you looked for more than a life of survival, of course you did. But when the walls went up, they hid you from reality. You appease these people…you placate them because they want normal lives again, but you're only enabling their delusions."
"So you're telling me there is no normal life? That it's not possible."
"I never said that," she correct her. "You can have your potted plant, and it can be real…but it's got to be the right kind."
"And what kind would that be?"
"You've got to face reality," she said imperatively. "Your people cannot hide inside these walls forever. The life you lead now is not sustainable. Your people are more worried about book club and art deco bathrooms than they are about knowing how to defend themselves. What's more, is that Alexandria as a whole has no value, no strength."
Deanna raised her eyebrows at this. "I strongly disagree…there is inherent value in life, in people."
"Not if those people are dead weight. You need to start thinking of Alexandria not from a politician's point of view, but as if it were a business," she said, leaning forward as a spark of passion ignited inside her. "What have you got to offer someone else? Nothing. I'm not talking about taking in people and providing for them, I'm talking about other communities."
"Other communities?"
"We are not the only people out here. We already know there's a potentially massive group in Ohio, and there's at least a small group around here carving W's into the foreheads of Walkers. I guarantee, they're not the only other groups around. One day, these communities are going to come knocking on your door, and they're going to want something from you…trade. Right now, you've got nothing to trade, and no significant means of protecting yourself. Think of it like a business," she reminded her. "A business that has no assets, nothing to offer, and a flimsy foundation will not last when there's competition in the market."
"We're planning our assets," Deanna argued politely. "It's my intention that I show you the plans we have, that you can see the future. You know I'd like you to work alongside Maggie and I."
"I'd like that too, but no offence Deanna, Alexandria is stagnate…you're leading them nowhere. You've been here over eighteen months, and aside from the walls, which are an incredible feat, all you've achieved is a book club and a school. Look at the vegetable patch! You've had eighteen months of a five by five garden. Do you expect that to sustain sixty or more people, and provide resources for the future? It's not going to happen, it's not enough."
There was a short pause as Deanna looked at her intensely, but she slowly nodded. "Keep going. What do you recommend?"
"Until you can finally get your assets and resources flowing, until you create an internal food supply, agriculture, infrastructure and skilled trade, you have nothing of value to trade. Given that your community can't defend itself, that shortcoming makes you incredibly vulnerable. It's time to let Rick step up and do the job you brought him here for."
"Which is?"
"He wants to empower Alexandria to protect itself, he wants people to know and understand the world, because that's the only way you will survive long term. Rick will not let you enable the delusions you've created, he won't let you placate and appease people, because he knows better. You got Alexandria this far, but without listening to Rick, what you've achieved is not sustainable. He'll help you manage dead weight."
"Dead weight?" Deanna questioned, sounding a little offended by this. "Are you saying some people here are dead weight?"
"Yes," she said bluntly. "They are. Every business has dead weight…so does Alexandria. Problem is, you've got a lot of it. What does a business do with dead weight?"
Deanna chuckled to herself. "Are you suggesting I lay off half the community?"
Echoing her chuckle, Carrie shook her head. "Never. That would be a neglectful waste of resources, and investment of your time that has no benefit. A business with dead weight should simply redirect it, give it a new opportunity. Rick wants to teach these people, he wants them to take responsibility for their own safety, and to be active participants in the community's safety. There's no room for passive participation."
Seeing that Deanna was dwelling on this, Carrie took pause and let her think, knowing she'd given her a lot to consider. As she too took a moment to herself, she mentally rehashed everything they had just talked about, taking stock of what else she had left to say. This wasn't the end of the conversation, not by far.
"I understand what you're saying," Deanna said slowly, nodding her head. "You've brought up many things for me to consider, many problems to address. Thank you."
"Let's talk about the real problem here, which is you and Rick," Carrie stated bluntly, not ready for the conversation to end. "You're a politician through and through. When you're asked a question, you could spend ten minutes answering it without actually answering it."
Deanna chuckled loudly, nodding her head in reluctant agreement. "Yes, I suppose that's true."
"Rick is not a politician. He's a leader. When someone asks him a question, he answers it and then acts on it if he needs to. There's no bullshit, no spin, no agenda. I think you're afraid Rick might be a better type of leader than you."
Deanna tilted her head a little, pondering this. "And what do you think? Do you think he's a better type of leader than me?"
"Yes, and no," she answered. "You both have strengths, and weaknesses too. On his own, Rick would do a superb job leading this community, but his weakness is perception…he's too experienced for the residents here to connect with, and that's important. For people to trust a leader, they need to feel a connection with them, a sense of understanding and common ground. They feel that connection with you, but not him. Problem is, you are not the right leader without him…and he is not the right leader without you."
"We need each other?"
"Yes, for the time being at least." Considering what she had been talking about, a question posed itself to her. "Are you threatened by Rick?" she asked, continuing when Deanna didn't reply. "I would understand if you were. He hasn't hidden the fact that he is capable of taking over this place if he so desired. I think we both understand that you're the leader because he allows you to be."
"That's…an interesting perspective," Deanna admitted. "And not necessarily incorrect, either."
"I hope you're decision to go behind his back to talk to me isn't an effort to gain some kind of leverage over him."
Deanna sighed, looking Carrie in the eye, and when she spoke she repeated some of Carrie's words from a moment ago. "I think we both understand that trying to gain leverage over Rick is a little ambitious…even for me."
"Yes," she agreed, glad that this was recognised.
Clearing her throat, Deanna sat up a little straighter in her chair. "I'm curious, Carrie…what kind of leader were you for your last group?"
This question took her by surprise, for until now the topic of conversation hadn't really been focused on herself that much. As she always did when struck by a difficult to answer question, she took a breath and thought about it carefully, taking her time to consider what she would say.
"I was the leader by default. It wasn't a case of trust, or even competence," she admitted honestly. "But I was the only one who could ever make a decision and act on it, big or small."
"That must have been difficult for you to manage," Deanna remarked sympathetically.
"It was. They looked to me for answers, and then blamed me for the consequences. I cared for my group…but I didn't love many of them."
Deanna gave a gentle sigh, looking at Carrie kindly. "I wholeheartedly meant what I said at the party. Alexandria is very lucky to have you. I'm very glad we have you here."
"Thank you," she replied. "I'm very glad to be here." A few short moments passed in comfortable silence, and it was then that Carrie was confident that they had talked about everything they needed to. "If it's alright with you, Deanna, I think I'd like to go now."
It was clear to them both that this was not a request.
"Of course," Deanna agreed. "I've kept you from this beautiful weather for too long already. Thank you for speaking with me, for your honesty. I appreciate your…unfiltered thoughts."
"Actually, that was the filtered version."
Not to her surprise, Deanna smiled a little. "And the unfiltered version?"
"Yet to be finalised," she said, echoing her smile. "Thank you for the coffee."
They two of them stood up now, Carrie helping to collect the tea cups and tray. Following Deanna back inside, she deposited it on the kitchen bench, taking notice of how quickly Deanna's home had been cleaned up and restored to normal following the party last night.
"Carrie, it would pain me to know that I've irrevocably insulted you, and your loyalty to Rick," Deanna said as she walked her to the front door. "That was not my intention. I do hope that we're parting today as friends."
Understanding that this remark was really a request for understanding and flexibility on her part, Carrie was willing to afford that. "We are," she said honestly.
"What's friendship without hearty debate?" Deanna joked, opening the front door for her. "One last thing…did you ever get a real plant for your desk?"
Amused by this question, Carrie nodded her head. "Yeah. My boss gave me a miniature cactus the day after I realised what the Daisies were. It was gorgeous, and I didn't have to water it either. But I hated it."
"Oh," Deanna said in surprise. "Why was that?"
"I liked the Daisies. I wanted my delusion."
Sighing, Deanna appeared thoughtful for a moment. "You've given me a lot to think about…thank you."
Nodding, Carrie said nothing more and so began to leave, but she was only halfway through the front door before she stopped again, turning back to Deanna. "Rick is a good man, Deanna. He feels the things he does, the things he has to do. I trust him."
"Yes, of course you do," she agreed. "He saved your life, he protected you."
"More than that," she said, trying to collect her thoughts so that she could properly express them. "After everything that happened to me…after what those men put me through? I was surprised by how quickly and deeply I came to trust Rick. He's a good man," she repeated. "I know you have your differences…I just hope that you can look past them to see who he really is."
Deanna nodded, giving consideration to everything Carrie said. "I hope so too."
Pulling the earphone out of his ear, Rick gave a long sigh and then looked at Carol. "Satisfied now?"
Doing the same, Carol rubbed her eyes as she stopped the recording. "Satisfied of where her loyalties lie? Yes," she remarked, her tone indicating that she meant this. "Satisfied that Carrie has her head screwed on? Yes, that too."
Looking at her from the corner of his eye, Rick still felt skepticism. "But?" he asked, reaching over to his nightstand. Deciding to risk his queasy stomach, he took a small sip of water.
"But, I still don't know her."
He sighed in exasperation. "Carol, can't y-"
"Don't you have enough to worry about?" she cut him off. Though her tone was abrupt, he could sense her kindness. "Stop worrying about Carrie too. She can take care of herself, she just proved that."
"Will you stop mistrusting her so much?"
"I don't mistrust her…not anymore at least," she said, gesturing to the computer. "She's a straight shooter, even against Deanna. I respect that. But I still don't know how I feel about her, and I have the right to decide that for myself, in my own time. Do I not?"
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Rick nodded his head, reluctantly agreeing with her.
"Like I said the other day, I've been nothing but kind and welcoming to Carrie, and I'll continue to be that way. She's living with us, I accept that. But it doesn't meant I have to be her best friend."
"Doesn't mean you have to hold her at arms length either," he muttered, wearily laying down onto his pillow.
"I understand why you warned her," Carol said a few moments later, looking amused when he looked at her in surprise. "Of course I know you warned her."
"But you understand why?" he confirmed, thinking of Granger.
"Yes, of course I do. I understand why you wouldn't tell me either."
"Are you mad I told her against your wishes?"
Carol paused, considering this. "No. You had your reasons, and I had mine…it just so happened that you knew more than me. In your position, I would have done the same thing."
Rick looked at her in surprise, having not expected this. With the cold and condescending way Carol usually spoke about the Alexandrian's, and given the way she had been considering Carrie as one of them, he hadn't expected this level of compassion.
"Will you stop worrying what I think about her now?"
"Sure," he nodded. Though Carol would still hold Carrie at arm's length, at least there was a certain level of trust now. Carrie had unknowingly affirmed where her loyalties lay, what she truly thought of Deanna and Alexandria. It had been what Carol needed to hear.
"So, what's going on with you two?" she asked again, having already voiced this question once before.
He sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "We're sleeping together, that's all," he answered. He looked over at her in curiosity. "I'm surprised…I didn't think you'd be interested in my sex life."
Carol didn't laugh like he had expected her too, rather her expression was serious. "I'm worried for you. I don't want you to get hurt."
Looking away quickly, he hastened to assure her. "It's just sex, alright? There's nothing more. You don't need to worry about me."
"Oh, Sunshine," she sighed, placing her hand over his and giving it a gentle squeeze. "We both know you're not that kind of man."
These words hit him much harder than they should have, for he knew what she was saying was true. He'd been thinking about this that very morning, constantly reminding himself that what he had with Carrie couldn't go further than casual sex. It was more difficult than he expected…he had little idea of what boundaries should be in place, what was appropriate and not for a friends with benefits relationship. Carol was right…he wasn't that kind of man. Going into this type of arrangement blind, he might be setting himself up for a fall out he wasn't prepared for.
As if Carol could hear his internal dialogue, she squeezed his hand supportively. "Be careful with your heart, that's all I'm saying." There was a short pause, and he heard the laptop closing before he felt the mattress move as Carol got up. "I'll let you get some sleep."
"Leave it," he said quickly, turning his head to look at her again. He gestured to the laptop…given the depth of everything Carrie had said during her chat with Deanna, he wanted to listen to it again.
Putting the laptop onto the bed within his reach, Carol left their conversation at that and then left, turning off the light in his wardrobe as she passed it by. As she closed the door behind herself, Rick wearily rolled onto his side and opened the laptop again, slipping the earphones into place and then scrolling the recording back to the very start of Carrie and Deanna's conversation. Despite his exhaustion he began listening again, feeling proud of Carrie for the things she had said. Not only had she stood up for herself and put Deanna in her place, she'd delivered some difficult things to hear in a somewhat delicate manner. She'd handled herself well, and clearly knew how to handle a woman like Deanna too…she'd been playing her from the start, and had expertly turned the tables on her.
As he continued listening to the recording for a second time, guilt began to fester in his stomach, knowing that he had crossed a line today. It was one thing to spy on Deanna and her family, but to spy on her conversation with Carrie? That was even worse. He'd broken her trust by intentionally allowing Carol to overhear the truth about what happened with Granger, and he'd broken her trust again by listening to her share even more private information. Carrie had been pregnant once, but it had ended in a miscarriage…deeply private information like that wasn't meant to be spied on, and she'd be righteously furious if she were to ever find out.
With that understanding, Rick reached the end of the recording and then opted to listen to it once more…but he knew he could never tell Carrie that he'd been spied on this conversation.
A/N - Thanks for reading guys, I hope you really enjoyed this chapter! It took blood, sweat and tears to get it just right, and I'm very, very grateful to AngieB for her help with getting things spot on!
Chapter 14 will include a time jump, but as I am relocating internationally I can't be sure that I will be able to post it on the usual schedule (which would normally be 4th or 5th of June). Depending on how my travel arrangements pan out, I'll either post it earlier or later than usual, so make sure you sign up for the email alerts. Regardless of when 14 is posted, I anticipate Chapter 15 sometime around the 11th or 12th of June.
Thanks for reading, and please don't forget to leave AngieB and I a review!