After the news settled, Rick asked the most obvious question. "So he doesn't attack because his daughter lives here?"

Jessa laughed, letting Angel pull at her shirt while Margie ran upstairs to grab one of her toys. "He doesn't know Angel exists. He stays away from this community, from me, because I left him. He saves face if he pretends I died." She laughed again as Angel gurgled up at her trying so desperately to say that elusive first word. "Mama?" She tried, watching her baby try to work her mouth in the same way. "Mama." She said again, hoping she'd give it a go.

"How?" Michonne asked. "How does he not know about her?"

Jessa grinned at her little one, and glanced back up. "He never asked the important questions. Like, for instance, 'Jessa, why would you want to leave me and my miserable ass now, when I'm destroying the man you thought you loved?'" She answered with a sigh. "He let me go, escape him if you want to use the words I'm sure he did, because he knew that he made me sick. Little did he know, the puke was more because of this little princess. He did make me ill, just not physically."

"Does he know this is your community?" Rick asked, glancing between her and the baby, as Margie came in with Angel's favorite giraffe.

Jessa nodded. "He scouted early on. Saw me through the gate." She gave a harsh laugh. "Thought he saw a damn ghost. Luckily I was still early enough in my pregnancy I wasn't showing. Turned and ran. Figure he told the group back at his little cult that I was dead and this compound was a dead end." She shrugged. "Whatever keeps him away, I'll take it."

Rick was nodding. Daryl spoke next. "And yer gonna let us ask your people to join us, and let 'em vote? What if they choose to fight 'im?"

Jessa shrugged again. "Then we fight." It was that simple, even if they didn't get it. "I told you, my people get equal say. Standing and bouncing Angel in her arms, she let them know that they had housing for the night. "Sandi should have 12 ready for you all. Come on, I'll show you where you guys can stay for the night." Walking past them, she led the way out the back door of her house. Across the backyard, out the side gate and up to the house next door. "This is 12. It sleeps about a dozen, even has a crib or two. All the sofas and chairs fold out in the living and family rooms, upstairs are actual beds. The fridge is stocked, as are the cabinets. Help yourselves." She turned to go. "I'll have someone let you know when the runners get back tomorrow. They'll bring you to our meeting room. Be prepared to state your case. There might be a bit of debate, my people like to have all the information before making a vote." Jessa smiled at Angel in the light from the porches. "Sleep well, the locks work, and the keys are in the kitchen. Goodnight."

She walked away from them, unguarded, and unafraid. Her baby was in her arms, and all was right in her world, even if her stomach was knotted at the thought of Angel's daddy finding out about her existence. If there was one thing Negan wanted more than power, it was a baby. And a baby by Jessa would damn well make his world fucking perfect.

OVER TWELVE MONTHS BEFORE:

Jessa heard the screaming and jeering before she walked downstairs. She'd been resting in their bedroom, napping for what seemed like the umpteenth time this week. She didn't know what was making her so damn tired, but between that and her disgust with food in general, she hoped beyond hope she wasn't dying. When the noise roused her from the nap, she decided against her fear to go investigate.

He was downstairs, in the heat of the boiler room, surrounded by the wild pack of his followers. In front of him was a man bound to a chair, the fire was high and she watched in horror as the man she loved drew on long black gloves and pulled an old fashioned iron from the flames. Whatever he said was lost in the jeers from the crowd and screams of the man, as he walked forward and pressed the hot metal to the man's face. Jessa felt a scream rip from her lips and darkness took her under.

PRESENT:

Jessa gasped awake, hoping she hadn't screamed out loud. She'd done it for months after she'd left. Every time she'd try to sleep, the nightmare she'd seen live and in living color would rush back and Margie would be forced to wake her before the walkers could find them. She looked over at the small crib pressed close to her bed, and smiled with the knowledge that Angel hadn't been woken by her mama's dream.

She pushed her hand through the bars of the crib and smoothed the baby's silky, unruly hair. Her little girl. A surprise, most certainly, but a welcome one. Jessa would walk through hellfire to keep her safe, even if it meant never letting her daddy know that she lived. She hadn't lied to the group last night. Margie used to say her unwavering honesty was a downfall, but she just didn't see the point to it. Why lie? Means you've gotta keep track of more stories.

Negan hadn't known that Jessa was pregnant. If he had, she'd have been kept under lock and key. She sure as hell wouldn't be in Willowbrooke, leading a group far different from his own. She wouldn't be safe and happy. She'd be a prisoner. She'd be one of a dozen or more, from the rumors she'd heard from other visitors, wives. When she'd been with him, she was the only. Seeing him with another would have been almost as terrible as seeing the sadist he'd become.

She could almost smell the scent of that man's seared flesh. Almost feel the bile rising up inside her, even as she'd fainted. Negan hadn't rushed to her, she wasn't even sure he'd heard her scream. No, her sister had. Margie hadn't been in the room, but she had come looking for her when she didn't find her in their room. When she found her folded up and unconscious on the landing above the room, seeing the crowd below and understanding what she'd seen, she had carried her back.

Jessa never understood how she could have lifted her, not then anyway. When they'd left, with his knowledge, because again she didn't lie, she'd seen her power and strength more fully. Before they'd found Willowbrooke, Margie had adopted two boys. They'd been orphaned and neither of them knew how'd they'd lasted so long alone. They were ten and twelve years old, and now they were blood. Just like she was, started a step sister, became Jessa's blood. Every single person in their community had earned that familial bond.

That's why their community flourished. Everyone did supply runs. Everyone took part in the upkeep and care of their homes and land. As soon as a child could handle a bow or crossbow with safety, they were taught. Knives, as she'd told them, came later and was explained as being a literal last resort. Their people's lives mattered. All their lives mattered. And that's why they kept going. Why they stayed loyal and caring. Why they invited people in.

Jessa knew that this was foreign to people nowadays. Hell, she knew people were dangerous. She just chose to believe what Negan would have called blind optimism. She'd rather not think the fucking worst right off the bat. She was cautious, but she was also fair. Give them a reason to NOT harm them, then if they tried, they died. That was the rule. This new group wasn't necessarily harmless, but she did hope they'd understand the rules here. They weren't listed, but they were pretty damn obvious.

She sat up and watched the sun rise. She'd give them the floor, that was a rule. They could state their wishes, and her people, her family would definitely have questions. Then, once the debate, the questions, were over they could vote. As long as their runners all came back, which they'd been lucky so far, then she wouldn't have a say at all. That's the rule. She was voted in, multiple times now, and she made this clear from the first. Her job was to keep the peace in the sense that she kept everyone moving forward. That's it. Moving forward.

This world was a mess. People would keep them going. Walkers were the least of their problems. If humanity left them, then what was the point of living anyway?

The sun rose, as it had since the time of the big bang. Sure as the birds twittering, and the dark coming at the end of the day. And as it crested, and grew blinding in its light, Jessa stood to get ready. The runners should be back by midday. They weren't expected to go longer, and she hoped that it would work out that way. That's why she wanted the newcomers to give their best explanation for what they wanted today, quick and simple. Then they could keep moving forward.