So here's what you missed on The Other Hellmouth:
Quinn and Puck had a baby last year, and gave it up for adoption. Her parents kicked her out and now her and Santana live together, alone. That is, until Santana's Tia Sofia showed up.
Santana: Sofia! She's my tia. My aunt.
Buffy found an open grave and nobody knows who took the body.
Tina: It could be demons who eat the flesh of the dead. Or, a voodoo practitioner.
Gross. Will asked Emma out on a date, but she's finally unavailable.
Emma: I was just having a regular check-up with my dentist, and he must have been charmed with my impeccable oral hygiene, because he asked me on a date.
You snooze, you lose. That's what you missed on The Other Hellmouth.
xxx
Quinn slung her backpack in the foyer and pulled her earbuds out of her ears - the sound of a Fleetwood Mac song disappearing into silence. Quinn raised an arched, blonde eyebrow. Usually the Lopez house was horribly silent during the day as Santana slept peacefully in her dark room, but today all that filled her ears was movement in the kitchen – clinking glasses and plates - and the muffled sound of the television. She felt the welcoming warmth on the surface of her pale skin. The Lopez house felt so different ever since the arrival of Santana's exuberant aunt Sofia.
Quinn curiously poked her head around the open wooden arch that led to the modern kitchen and smiled warmly to herself at the sight of Sofia whipping up three servings of steaming, colorful chicken korma, the door to the wide living room open wide and the blaring sound of a telenovela floating through.
"Queen!" Sofia exclaimed happily when she spotted the nervous blonde standing in the doorway.
"Hello," Quinn said shyly.
Since Sofia had suddenly moved in, Quinn had kept her respectful distance. It seemed like Santana was finally bonding with an affectionate family member, and Quinn didn't want to get in the way.
"Are jou hongry?" Sofia asked in her thick Colombian accent.
"Not really," Quinn shrugged, "I think I'll just go upstairs and get started on homework."
"Nonsense," the woman shook her head, her dark, long hair swishing against her shoulders, "Jou come help me cook and we serve da dinner when Santana wakes up."
Quinn hesitated briefly before walking into the kitchen with her arms tight on her side, and stood idle by the island counter, anxiously, when Sofia handed her and handful of garlic cloves.
"Peel these, por favor."
Quinn immediately began to scrape off the papery skin with her nails and peel it off of each moist clove.
"Santana explained to me your situation," Sofia said quietly as she chopped uncooked chicken into small pieces.
"Oh," was all Quinn could say, her leafy green eyes glued to the counter-top.
"Queen?"
"Yes?"
"Do you like liveen here?"
Quinn though about it for a long moment; not only debating the honest answer, but debating whether that was the answer to offer Sofia.
"I'm thankful to have a place to stay," Quinn said honestly, her shoulders stiff and reserved.
"That was no my question."
Quinn sighed, and shook her head. Articulating her nonsensical musings could be quite a chore that she usually wanted to avoid at all costs, but something about Sofia's soothing, lyrical voice and earnest eyes made Quinn want to bare her soul.
"I thought being away from my parents would mean I could finally be who I really was, but as it turns out, I don't know who that is. While I like living here... it doesn't really feel like I'm living here."
"I don' understand," said Sofia, cocking her head to the side, her hands hovering over the slippery chicken.
Quinn chuckled under her breath. "Yeah, I don't make a lot of sense," she sighed wearily, "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've never really felt like I've belonged. I was hoping that this was the place, but it's not."
Sofia looked at Quinn for a long moment as Quinn stared into space, stunned by her own realization. Quinn felt liberated for facing the truth, and altogether tragic for seeing what a sad truth it was.
"I see," Sofia finally said.
Quinn raised an eyebrow and looked at the woman who resembled her best friend all too closely. "Can I tell you something? A secret?"
"Of course you can, Queen."
"Did Santana tell you about my baby?"
Sofia nodded, looking sympathetic.
"Well," Quinn sighed, "Ever since Puck and I left her, I've felt like there's something missing. And I know that's to be expected, but there's something different. Every day... Every second, I miss her, because I can... feel her."
Sofia's eyes fell to the counter, slowly welling up behind her heavily painted lashes. "I know what jou mean," she sighed.
"No, I mean..." Quinn's shoulders drooped, frustrated with her own tied tongue, "I don't know how to explain it. Every once in a while, I'll get this surge. Like just for one moment I can feel what she's feeling. Like there is this connection and I know if she's happy or sad or safe or scared... I sound insane."
"Not at all. I know exactly what jou mean."
Quinn shook her head, close to tears. "You don't have to humor me."
"I not. I know how you feel. Like jour hearts are connected by amor, and jou feel her like thunder in jour soul."
Quinn smiled. "Yeah."
"Queen, can I tell you something? ... A secret?"
"Of course."
"You cannot tell Santana."
"Okay."
"When I was jour age, I had to give my daughter away."
Quinn's eyes widened and she looked at the woman's tender, honest face. "... I had no idea."
Sofia nodded and leaned forward over the counter, her voice turning to a whisper.
"I didn't want to give my baby girl to strangers, so I gave her to mi hermano mayor and his esposa."
"...What?"
"My older brother and his wife."
Quinn looked back down at the counter, her forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Wait..."
"He had a nice job, nice casa... He could support my mija better than I could. The problem was, he and his wife could never love my daughter like I love her."
"Sofia-"
"They try to love her, but they don'. They raise my mija like they're doing her a favor, but that's no way to raise a child. You don' make a child think they have to earn your love."
Quinn stared at the woman, the sound her heartbeat loud in her ears. "You're Santana's mother."
xxx
"This was not the night I had planned," grunted Finn.
He sank his heavy shovel into the rich soil and kicked it in hard, digging out a small mound of dirt and pebbles and tossing it aside in a pile on the grass. Beside him, Mr. Schuester repeated the steps, and the boys dug in unison, beads of sweat dripping down their foreheads, as Buffy, Rachel and Tina sat on the soft cemetery grass with their backs rested against a gravestone.
"Finn and I are still trying to convince Sam Evans to join glee club," Rachel murmured to her friends.
"Is he good?" Tina asked, folding her legs and tucking them underneath her.
"He has a certain boy band quality that could really help us during this year's competitions," nodded Rachel matter of factly, "But he's concerned with becoming unpopular."
"That's too bad," Tina frowned.
"I hope I didn't scare him off," Buffy sighed, resting her head back.
"Because you humiliated him in Breadstix?" asked Rachel.
"No, because my nail polish is a little loud," Buffy said sarcastically.
"What happened in Breadstix?" asked Tina.
"I so don't want to relive this."
"Buffy took him onto the dance floor, got bored and left him there."
"Buffy!" exclaimed Tina.
"It was when I just got back. I had... issues," Buffy shrugged, "I still feel bad about it."
"Well, maybe you can apologize and get him to join glee club," Rachel shrugged, smiling chipperly.
"Jeez, Rachel," Buffy sighed, exhausted.
"What?"
"It's embarrassing! And awkward. I'd rather just forget about it completely."
"Have it your way."
"Hey, this might go a lot faster if you chicks picked up a shovel, too," Finn called to them, raspy and out of breath, knee deep in a grave.
"I second that," said Mr. Schuester.
"Sorry, but, I'm an old fashioned gal. I was raised to believe that the men dig up the corpses and the women have the babies," nodded Buffy.
"I would have got Mike to help, but he has to study tonight for a History test," said Tina.
"What History test?" exclaimed Buffy, who was in Mike's History class.
"I think we're there," said Mr. Schuester, the tip of his shovel hitting a hard surface with a muffled clang.
The girls stood up and peered over into the rectangular hole.
"Are we hoping for a body or no body?" asked Rachel.
"A body would mean flesh eating demon. No body would point to an army of zombies," Tina nodded calmly.
"Go on, open it," Mr. Schuester elbowed Finn.
"You're closer..."
"Pathetic much?" Buffy rolled her eyes and hopped into the open grave.
xxx
Santana's boots barely made a sound against the pavement as she strode down the side of McKinley High, just beyond the illumination of the floodlights at the front of the school. The sun had already disappeared when she woke up, and she went downstairs to find her aunt and her best friend nervously offering her a dinner she had no appetite for. Tia Sofia didn't seem to understand that Santana didn't have an appetite for anything anymore accept blood and danger.
She stalked passed a dumpster and stopped still, hearing an eery noise. She took a step back as the dumpster began to creak open, and a head appeared in the crack.
"Morgan?" smirked Santana.
Morgan Ru looked up at the former Cheerio from inside the plastic dumpster, her eyes wide with surprise and panicked fear.
"Santana?"
"I'm not surprised that this is one of your hang out spots."
"Why were you following me?" Morgan demanded, frightened.
Santana wrinkled her nose. "I wasn't sure it was you... I was looking for a friend."
"Brittany?"
"...Yeah. How did you know?"
"You two were inseparable back when you were... What are you now? You disappeared and now you show up whenever the slayer needs help."
"How do you know about the slayer?"
"I-I knew since last year."
"Jesus, she can not keep her gob shut."
"It's not like I'm going to tell anyone."
"Why, what does she owe you?"
"Nothing," Morgan shrugged, "I just like knowing there's someone who can protect me when weird stuff happens."
"So that's it. Fear. Are you going to explain what you're doing in a dumpster?"
"I... got scared. You know, a lot of scary stuff happens in Lima, so when you hear a noise it's probably smarter to hide in a dumpster than to call out 'who's there?'"
"And all these years I thought you were as vapid as a toilet brush."
"Thanks. Can you help me out?"
"Sure," sighed Santana, and gripped the girl's shoulders, struggling to pull her out of the bin.
"Hold on, my skirt is caught on something," said Morgan, reaching into the dumpster and pulling on whatever her skirt was snagged on.
She gingerly pulled an item out of the dumpster and held it into the light. Both the girls took a sharp intake of breath as Morgan held out a severed hand.
xxx
"So, both coffins are empty. That makes three girls in the zombie army," said Finn as he and the others walked to the choir room, dirty shovels in hand, with Mr. Schuester and Buffy leading the way in the dark school.
"Is it really an army if you just have three?" asked Rachel as they entered the small room.
Their chatter stopped as they noticed Morgan Ru and Santana Lopez sitting on the plastic chairs, looking shaken.
"Santana," said Buffy, surprised.
"Buffy," said Santana, her eyes swiveling among the small crowd, "Berry."
"Santana," sneered Rachel, folding her arms over her chest.
"Where were you?" asked Santana.
"Investigating," said Buffy, "Somebody's been digging up the bodies of dead girls."
Santana awkwardly glanced at Morgan. "I know. We found some of them."
"You mean, like, two of the three?" Buffy asked hopefully.
"I mean, like, some of them. Like, parts."
"It was so disgusting," whined Morgan, "There were a ton of body parts just lying in the dumpster. Why are these terrible things always happening to me?"
"Karma," Rachel coughed under her breath.
"So much for our zombie theory," Finn furrowed his brow.
"So much for all of our theories," said Tina.
"I don't get it," Buffy shook her head, "Why go to all the trouble to dig up three girls only to chop them up and throw them away. It doesn't make any sense! Especially from a time management standpoint."
"I don't know. What I saw didn't really add up to three whole girls. I think they kept some parts," said Santana, wrinkling her nose.
"Could this get more disgusting?" Rachel asked rhetorically, shuddering.
"What if they're keeping some of the parts to eat?" asked Finn.
"Question answered," said Buffy.
"Do you think it's someone who goes to school here?" Rachel asked, wide eyed.
"This wasn't an amateur. Whoever made those incisions really knew what they were doing..." said Santana, "My dad was a doctor."
"Who at McKinley is that well versed in physiology?" asked Tina, "Besides me."
xxx
The next morning, Mr. Schuester pushed the glass door open on Emma's office without invitation. Since the start of the school year, the two had spent less and less time with each other, but now that the stress of it all was dawning on Will, he had to make an express stop to what he considered the local therapist. He immediately started to vent about his responsibilities as he slumped on the chair opposite her, willing the clock to tick slower before he had to supervise another glee club meeting.
"I have a stack of papers this high and Figgins is really on my back about budget cuts for the glee club if we don't win Sectionals, and on top of that, the kids want to perform Britney Spears songs," he vented, running his fingers through his tight curls.
He didn't bother mentioning that also on top of that he and his students were looking for a raving lunatic who was collecting female body parts and that he went home alone to his bare two bedroom apartment every night.
"What's wrong with the kids performing Britney Spears?" Emma asked, her eyes curious from behind her ginger side fringe, as she organized stacks of self help pamphlets.
"She's not a good role model," Will shook his head, "As a teacher, it's my responsibility to guide the kids in the right direction."
"I don't think Britney Spears is that bad," shrugged Emma, causing Will to raise his eyebrows, "I actually think it's quite admirable how she's gotten her life together."
Will rolled his eyes with a frown.
"Hasn't she had, what, three number one hits in the past two years? She's a single mom raising two kids. I think she's the perfect symbol for the possibility of rebirth," said Emma.
Will smirked and shook his head. He was already putting his students in grave danger by letting them help his slayer. He wasn't about to warp their values, too.
"See, that's your problem, Will," said Emma, as if she could read his mind, "You're too uptight."
"You're calling me uptight? The woman who buys hand sanitizer by the barrel?"
Emma blinked, her eyes rising to the ceiling with indignation. "I admit, I've had some trouble with control in the past, but Carl's been helping me with all of that."
A pout deepened in Will's face at the mention of Emma's new boyfriend, Dr. Carl Howell. As much as he liked the thought of Emma's germaphobe issues being helped, he admittedly, selfishly wanted to be the one helping them.
"Really? How?"
"Well, the other day he made me buy the green grapes and the red grapes at the market and then we just mixed them together in a bowl and we just ate them. It was madness. Sheer madness," Emma sighed, looking elated.
"Wow," Will groaned sarcastically.
Emma blinked and frowned disapprovingly. "You know what, that's fine. Make fun all you want but it's a start and I'm incredibly grateful for it."
Will pursed his lips and looked down. He hated the idea of another man dictating Emma's life and avoiding the sound of her plastic gloves. His guilt for thinking so selfishly was promptly stifled by his resentment for this man. Especially as a light knock on the door forewarned the entrance of the man himself.
"Am I interrupting?"
"Carl," Emma beamed, and Will turned around to face the man standing in the doorway, "What are you doing here?"
Will would never admit it aloud, but Carl Howell was undoubtedly handsome, with dark hair that matched his eyes and a crooked smile.
"I thought I'd take you to lunch," Carl smirked weakly, tired bags under his eyes.
Will bristled and supposed that he was the kind of broody hunk that women fawned over. Although he would never admit that aloud, either.
"You must be Will," Carl nodded after planting a kiss on Emma's cheek.
"Yeah," Will said, his gaze drifting to the window, grinding his teeth as Carl's buzzer sounded.
"Damn," Carl said under his breath, "Another teenager needs a root canal."
Emma smiled proudly at her boyfriend and turned her attention to Will. "Carl's been trying to get the school to let him give a seminar on dental hygiene, but they've really been dragging their feet," explained Emma.
Will leaned forward in his seat, his interest piqued. "Why don't you give a talk to my glee club next period?" he asked, his voice an octave higher with fake cheer.
"Really?" Carl asked, one dark eyebrow raised with intense interest.
"Sure. I'm usually tight with our rehearsal schedule, but I'm sure I could loosen the reigns a bit, for Carl," he emphasized to Emma, "Kids can't sing without teeth, right?"
"That's great, thanks," smirked Carl, "Just let me make a call, okay?"
Will nodded as Carl left the office, pulling his cell phone out of his trouser pocket.
"Wow, Will, that's really sweet of you," Emma beamed from behind her desk.
"What can I say?" Will shrugged, smiling benevolently, "Besides, Carl sure looks tired. He could probably use the help."
"You can tell, huh?" Emma winced.
Will nodded, and sunk back into the chair. "Sure."
"He's been sort of tired and introspective since I met him this summer. I thought it was just a cool, broody thing-"
I knew it, thought Will.
"- but he's actually been going through kind of a rough time."
"Really?" Will asked, listening intently.
"Mm hm. His brother died last spring. It was a real tragedy. Carl says they were best friends."
Will sighed, suddenly full of guilt. "That's rough. How did he die?"
"A heart attack. No one saw it coming."
Will kept his eyes on the surface of the desk, guilt overcoming him, because Carl had been through such a hard devastation this year, and all Will could think about was ways to steal his girlfriend. However, guilt wasn't enough to stop Will from dreaming.
xxx
"So, here's the deal," said Dr. Howell, holding a small white capsule in the palm of his hand and holding it out for the glee club to inspect, "You chew this little capsule, and if there's any plaque you missed, the dye will stick to it and turn your teeth blue."
Will and Emma watched the talk from the front of the classroom at the grand piano, as white capsules were passed out amongst the glee club.
"Before we chew, I would just like to alert Mr. Schuester that there's a new Facebook addition to the Britney Spears campaign," said Kurt, holding his capsule in his fingers.
"Sorry, the answer's still no," Mr. Schuester clapped his hands, "Capsules, guys!"
The glee club chewed away on their metallic tasting capsules until they had dissolved in their mouths, Kurt and Quinn the first to show off their sparkling white teeth. Puck showed off a winning smile and Mike and Tina kissed in celebration of their excellent dental hygiene. Everyone showed off their perfect teeth until a panicked grunt was heard from Finn in the back of the choir room.
"Oh my God," Kurt gasped as he turned around, the light of Rachel Berry's bright blue teeth glowing in her mouth.
She frowned in confusion. "What?" she demanded, panicked, and removed a hand mirror from her m purse, gasping at her own reflection, "I don't understand, I floss between classes!"
"Well, sometimes it's genetics," Carl shrugged.
"I think I would be better at brushing and flossing if I could see myself in the mirror," said Artie, his mouth horrendously blue.
Brittany smiled brightly, showing her blue teeth off with pride. "I don't brush my teeth. I rinse my mouth out with soda after I eat. I was pretty sure Dr. Pepper was a dentist."
Carl smirked at Brittany, clearly amused. "I'll pencil you in right away. Some deep bleaching and scaling - good as new."
"And what about me?" asked Rachel, worried for her teeth.
"Yeah, I'll get back to you and Wheels," said Carl, now engrossed in his Blackberry as the bell rang.
"Any sign of our suspects?" Finn leaned in and asked Buffy as everyone flooded out save for them, Rachel and Tina.
Tina leaned in the quietly join the conversation while Rachel tried to wipe the incriminating blue dye off of her teeth with a handwipe she kept on her person in case of a slushie facial.
"Not yet," said Buffy, frustrated by their newest case.
"I might have found something..." said Tina.
"Tell!" Buffy demanded, folding her arms in anticipation.
"Not a person. But an idea. I was reading up all night about zombification-"
"I thought it wasn't zombies," said Finn.
"Well, not yet. Like, I said, I was reading up on it, and there are cases of men with several female victims who've had body parts removed. At the end of the murder spree, he would sew their body parts together and reanimate the body as a zombie, in an attempt to recreate the perfect girl."
Buffy's lip curled up in disgust, and Rachel even left her now dimly blue teeth alone to listen.
"Why would someone make a girl?" asked Buffy, clearly disgusted.
"Why wouldn't they?" asked Finn.
The girls looked up at Finn, their expressions ranging from searching to repulsed.
"I just mean... It's hard for some guys. To find love."
"Love has nothing to do with this," Buffy sneered.
"Fine. But people don't tend to fall in love with what's right in front of them. The more unattainable the better," he shrugged.
Buffy frowned and looked at the floor. He had a point. Buffy was still secretly harboring a crush on her watcher. If that wasn't looking for heartbreak, what was? Even Rachel and Finn were victims of wanting what they couldn't have. They'd been so crazy for each other when they were kept apart by Quinn Fabray and Jesse St. James, but now that they were together, Rachel spent most of her time criticizing Finn, and Finn always had a bored, glazed over look in his eyes, unless they were hunting some sort of big bad. But Buffy didn't comment on that aloud.
Tina shook her head. "I would do anything for love, but I won't do that," she sighed, and a smirk escaped.
The others chuckled quietly. They'd picked up Buffy's knack for finding humor in the horrible. She wasn't so sure she should be glad she was rubbing off on them.
xxx
"This room looks like the one in that space ship where I got probed," said Brittany, recollecting a dream as she stared up into the almost blinding overhead light in Dr. Howell's office.
"Brittany, you have the worst teeth I've ever seen," Dr. Howell shook his head as his assistant cleaned silver tools, "You have cavities in every tooth."
"Please don't pull out my teeth. When I smile I'll look like an adult baby but with boobs," she pleaded calmly.
Dr. Howell blinked and shook his head. "I'll have to put you deep under anaesthesia. You won't feel a thing."
"Like roofies?"
"Yeah, totally," he muttered and switched on the radio, letting the sounds of Britney Spears' 'I'm a Slave 4 U' fill the small dentists' office, "You just relax."
"Oh no, not Britney," Brittany sighed as he strapped a gas mask on her face.
Muddled visions of herself wrapped in snakes and Santana and singing a sexy song made Brittany wake up with a tired smile. It felt like she had been unconscious for only a couple of minutes, but her eyes were already fluttering open, real time having passed much slower. She squinted in anticipation of the blinding light above the cushy dentist's chair, but she found the only thing overhead was a pair of long, dim bulbs that didn't make much of an impression on her opening eyes. In fact, she didn't feel much like she was resting in the soft leather cushioned seats of the dentists' chair anymore, and as she rolled over cautiously, she found that she wasn't. She took a small but sharp intake of breath as she found herself on a cold, wide metal table.
The entirety of her surroundings was different, and completely foreign. She looked around, her catlike eyes wide and frightened. The room she was in now was small and square with gray bricks making up the walls, and only one wooden door, and shards of glass broken in the corner. She could feel chills run around her skin and she started to shake, looking down and discovering herself in a white and blue hospital gown, her blonde hair now down in a scraggly mess around her shoulders.
She mused for a moment that she might still be dreaming, but she laid that theory to rest after promptly pinching herself.
"Oh, God," she sighed, desperately.
She tended to put her trust in doctors and cops, but right now, she wasn't so sure if what was happening was okay or not. She slid off of the wide metal table, her bare feet hitting the cold concrete floor and sending a shudder up her back. She couldn't find her clothes anywhere - and there weren't a lot of places to hide. She walked around the table, only to accidentally step on a shard of broken glass. She gasped in pain and immediately slapped a hand over her mouth. Although she knew it was unlikely, she couldn't shake the feeling that behind that door could be an alien waiting to probe her.
She whimpered quietly and wiped the small amount of blood from under her heel. As she held her hand over the cut, leaning down, she caught her reflection in the glass. It wasn't her mussed hair or her frightened blue eyes that took her about. It was the marks on her neck. A dotted line that went all the way around, in pen, like the marks on Santana's chest when she got that boob job last summer, or the ones on Quinn's face when she 'fixed' her nose. Brittany gasped and clutched her own neck, tears welling up. She knew what happened to dotted lines. She owned activity books. That's where you had to cut. Brittany Pierce may think that dolphins are just gay sharks, but the girl wasn't stupid.
She peeked around the corner of the door as she opened it slowly, just a sliver of space for her to see that on the other side was a slightly smaller room, empty, with another door and a wooden staircase. Without hesitation, Brittany burst through the door and thundered up the staircase, her heart racing.
In the other room, Carl looked up from cleaning his tools. He turned to his balding assistant with trepidation.
"Did you hear that?" asked the assistant, his eyes still with fear behind the lenses of his spectacles.
"Dammit," Carl muttered, dropping his instruments and bursting through the door. The door opposite him that led to his operation room was wide open.
"Shit," his assistant murmured behind him, and followed Carl as he bounded up the staircase.
Upstairs was flooded with light compared to the dank basement, and Carl thundered through his small kitchen and into the hall, his heart thudding at the sight of his front door, wide open and gently swaying back and forth in the breeze. He was out on his porch in a flash, and in the distance of the neighborhood, the blonde was still running, scantily clad in her hospital gown with her messy sand colored hair whipping behind her. Gradually fading footprints of blood followed her.
"We can catch her!" the assistant hissed behind him.
Carl pushed against the assistant and pushed him back into his house, closing the door behind him.
"It's too late," Carl shook his head.
"What are you talking about? We can catch her!"
"You think we can just go out into the neighborhood and tackle down a teenager. Subtlety, Garrison."
Garrison sighed, frustrated. "We can't reanimate the body with a dead brain. We need a fresh one."
"So we'll get a fresh one!"
"You better hurry. That girl's going to tell someone and we're not going to have long before we have to change our names and move."
Carl bit his bottom lip, thinking. "There was another girl who needed an appointment."
"It's a little late for an appointment. And by tomorrow, all of the blonde's school friends will know."
Carl sighed. "Then we need someone fast, don't we? Someone who already has my trust and a reason to come to my house."
"What are you suggesting?"
"My girlfriend and I been dating for a month now and she still isn't putting out. I was going to break up with her soon, but maybe she still has some use."
"Are you sure about this?"
Carl shrugged. "She's a little older than the other, but maybe Daryl needs someone with sophistication."