Anna pulled open the cellar doors and made her way down with two trays of food; two hard-boiled eggs, and two slices of buttered toast. She went to Henry's cell first.

"Anna. Hey," he greeted, getting up from the cot.

"Breakfast of champions," she said teasingly, setting one of the trays down so that she could open his cell and pass him his food. "Eat up."

"Thanks," he said, taking his food to the cot and sitting down.

He started in on the toast and Anna turned to Lydia's cell. She picked up the other tray and walked over. Lydia immediately went to one corner, curling in on herself and watching Anna unlock her cell. Anna stepped inside and set the tray down on the ground in front of her.

"Hope you're not allergic to anything," Anna said, straightening.

The girl stared silently at her, eyes wide and searching. She was terrified, and looking for a way out. Anna became very uncomfortable with the familiarity of the situation and turned to head out of the cell.

"Wait," the girl called as Anna stepped out of the cell; Anna turned back. "Why?" Lydia asked, tugging on her ear and wincing.

"Because you need to eat," she said simply, shutting and locking the cell door.

Anna paused, tapping her fingers on the lock. She opened her mouth to say something, but she wasn't exactly sure what she had in mind to share. Shaking her head with a sigh, Anna turned and left the cellar.

.

Taking up the rear of the group, Anna walked through the woods with Emma, Tara, Kal, Magna, Yumiko, Connie, and Kelly. They kept their eyes on the trees, searching for any signs of Alden and Luke, walkers, and anymore of Lydia's people.

"How did breakfast go?" Emma asked from beside Anna.

"About as well as we thought it would go," Anna shrugged, adjusting the leather strap of her spear. "She's expecting us to kill her. Tara hasn't decided what's going to happen to her yet."

"Right," Emma nodded.

"Honestly, though, listening to her tell Henry her story…, something's off about it," Anna admitted.

"It is pretty awkward sitting there and listening to them," Emma agreed.

"Not that—well, yeah, I don't really like that part either—but I mean, her story," Anna said. "There's something about it that's not adding up. She keeps getting her mom and dad confused and has to correct herself."

"Really?" Emma asked, furrowing her brow. "What do you think that means?"

"I don't know," Anna said, shaking her head.

"What?" Tara asked, pausing the group as Connie peered through binoculars. "What do you got?"

Yumiko crossed over to Connie and took the binoculars, following Connie's gaze.

"Maybe the dead, maybe not," Yumiko said, passing back the binoculars. "Keep your distance and watch their hands. They could go for knives."

Anna nodded and pulled her spear as they approached a group of walkers feasting on a pair of fallen horses. Yumiko fired an arrow into a couple heads while Magna threw her knives, and Kelly and Connie fired their slingshots.

"Funky walk, check," Tara said, walking up with her own spear. "No weapons, check. Okay."

With that, Tara stabbed an approaching walker up through the chin. Two walkers made their way toward Anna, but she easily knocked the first to the side before swinging her spear back to run the spearhead through the second walker's eye. She ripped the spearhead from the second walker's eye and, with a bit of an unnecessary flourish, jabbed it through the forehead of the first walker. The others quickly dispatched their own adversaries.

"None of the masked ones," Magna said, surveying the corpses.

"The horses," Emma said, grimacing at what was left of the creatures. "These are Alden's and Luke's."

"But no Alden and Luke," Magna pointed out.

"Maybe they had to bail," Tara suggested.

"Check the area. Look for tracks. Stay close," Anna instructed, gesturing to Kal.

He nodded and headed off to do just that. Anna hovered over the horses alongside Connie and Kelly, inspecting the very non-walker inflicted wounds. It seemed Connie saw the same thing as she signed a slashing motion across the horses.

"Hey, guys," Kelly called. "Connie says the horses were cut open and skinned with knives."

"This wasn't just the dead," Anna agreed.

"Plenty of walker tracks but nothing else," Kal said as he returned. "Horses could've been wandering for a while."

"Well, then we split up," Yumiko said. "We break in different directions."

"No, no, we stay here. It's not safe out here anymore," Tara said, stopping anyone from moving. "Walkers aren't just walkers. That girl told us it was just her mother, but this? She's a liar. There could be three more of them out there. There could be three hundred of them out there." She turned to Anna. "We head back, we stay behind the walls, and we make a plan. Until we find out what this is."

Anna nodded when she noticed Connie sign something to Tara. Kelly turned to Tara and stepped forward.

"And what if we don't?" Kelly asked.

"We will. Let's go," Tara said shortly, walking off and leaving no room for further discussion.

.

.

"You want my other egg?" Henry asked. "I could roll it to you, if… if you want."

Daryl rolled his eyes as he listened from beside Lydia's window.

"You don't have to take care of me," Lydia said.

"I'm just trying to be nice," Henry insisted.

"You can keep it. Hunger's a gift," Lydia said, and Daryl frowned. "Why are you being nice to me?"

"When me and my brother and my dad were found out there, we were pretty messed up, too," Henry explained. "Took a lot of someone being nice to us to make things okay again."

"You think I'm messed up?" Lydia questioned.

"How is hunger a gift?" Henry asked instead.

"If I have to explain it, you wouldn't understand," Lydia sighed. "It'll never be okay again."

"Says who?" Henry huffed.

"My dad."

Daryl listened as Lydia explained how her father had tried to take her and her mother out of the basement after they'd been there over a month. She spoke about how, despite the fear her father instilled in her mother, she stood up to him, insisting that he would be going alone. She mentioned wanting to be a ghost for Halloween, and how he had said every day was Halloween with all the freaks who thought there was still something to be hopeful about. Lydia recalled sitting down to play a game of checkers with her mother when he grabbed a pair of scissors and cut away his beard, saying he'd be doing what he wanted now that the world was over. Her mom had distracted her with the game.

"Checkmate," her mom had said.

"He always…," Lydia paused. "She always said that."

"Your mom sounds nice," Henry said, not seeming to notice the way she got her parents confused.

But Daryl noticed.

"Yeah," Lydia said absently before clearing her throat. "Is your second mom the person who found you?"

"No, it was my, uh… my dad, Ezekiel. Second dad," Henry said.

"Why isn't he here with your mom?" Lydia asked.

"They're the leaders of another community. Where I'm from," Henry explained.

"Is it far? W-what's it called?" Lydia asked, an eager note to her questioning.

"It's called the Kingdom—"

Daryl pushed himself to his feet.

Damn kid is sharing a little too much, he thought as he moved to the cellar doors and threw them open. He made his way down the stairs quickly.

"Hey," Henry called as Daryl went to his cell and unlocked it. "What's going on?"

"Shut up," Daryl snapped. "You're gettin' out. Come on."

He yanked Henry out of the cell and forced him up the steps and out of the cellar before he grabbed the back of his shirt and dragged him toward the trailers and away from Lydia's window.

"Get over there," Daryl growled, tossing Henry toward the trailer. "What the hell's wrong with you, huh? Tellin' her about the Kingdom? What if there's more of her people out there? You got family at the Kingdom."

"I'm sorry. Okay?" Henry said. "I didn't think that it would…, wait. You were listening?"

"Yeah, of course we were," Daryl said. "Me, Anna, and a few of the others, we've been switchin' off, seein' what she'd say to you."

"You were using me," Henry scoffed.

"Yeah, and it was workin', too," Daryl huffed.

"She's a good person who got messed up out there," Henry insisted. "And she's right about you. You know that? You're an asshole."

Daryl rolled his eyes.

"You want answers, get 'em yourself," Henry sneered, turning on his heel and stalking off.

.

.

"No," Tara snapped. "I was okay with giving her food, but medicine? That stuff is hard to find."

"Henry got us a lot of information with just a little bit of kindness. We don't have him working for us anymore, so maybe we need to give a little ourselves," Anna insisted.

She, Tara, Daryl, Enid, and Emma stood in the office going back and forth on whether or not to give Lydia medicine for her obvious ear infection. Enid and Emma were on the fence, though Enid leaned more toward a 'no' vote, while Emma seemed inclined to agree with Anna. Daryl had remained silent so far.

"You saw what was out there, Anna—Alden and Luke's horses were cut up and fed to walkers. The girl is a liar," Tara said.

"Then what do you suggest? Torture?" Anna sneered. "Want to go down and beat the truth out of her?"

"No, I didn't say that," Tara huffed before turning to Daryl. "What do you think?"

Daryl leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he observed Anna, but she stood firm. Finally, he nodded and pushed himself off the wall.

"I say we give her the meds. See what we can get out of her," Daryl said. "Enid, go get me the right meds. I'll take 'em to her."

"Are you sure?" Anna asked. "Maybe I should. You haven't exactly been gentle with her."

"Yeah. You don't need to be down there," Daryl said, heading off with Enid.

Anna clenched her jaw, watching Daryl disappear with Enid.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tara asked.

.

.

Daryl pulled open the cellar door and stepped down the stairs, rounding the corner to Lydia's cell. This would be easier without Henry yelling for him to leave her alone.

"You finally come to kill me?" Lydia asked, sitting against the wall with her knees pulled up.

Without a word, Daryl pulled up a chair, sat down, and stared at her a moment. He had mixed feelings about the whole thing. On the one hand, he wanted and needed answers. He had lost a good friend to one of her people, and he was angry. On the other hand, she was just a kid, and the thought of keeping someone captive put a bad taste in his mouth.

He reached into the inner pocket of his vest and pulled out the orange pill bottle. There was only a few inside. He shook it.

"It's for your ear," he explained when she frowned at him. "You keep pullin' on it like it hurts." She curled her lip in irritation. "No? I don't give a shit. It's up to you," he said, tucking the bottle back in his pocket. "Two of ours went missing. We found their horses, though. Half skinned, half eaten. You know anything about that?"

"How could I? I've been here," Lydia snapped.

"What would your mom do if she crossed some of our people?" Daryl asked. "Would she kill them?"

"She would if she had to," she said.

Lydia began to tell him about a time early in the outbreak when they were still in the basement. One of the men they'd been hiding with had tried to get out, risking all their lives. But her mom had stopped him. She'd killed him. Lydia had been so afraid, but her dad had held her and sang to her the song of the tattooed lady.

"He used to sing that to me when I was scared," she said. "Which was a lot back then."

"How old were you?" Daryl asked.

"Five. Six. Who knows?"
"Your mom…. Your mom did what she had to do," Daryl assured. "Doesn't have to be like that, though. There's a lot of good people here. They'll help you if you help them."

He pulled out the pill bottle again and tossed it through the bars. It clattered onto the concrete ground. Lydia pulled it toward her with the toe of her boot and picked it up, taking one of the pills out.

"Can I have some water?"

Daryl nodded and stood, finding the barrel of water they kept down there. He ladled some water and took it over to the bars where she'd moved. He hesitated to hold it out to her.

"What? You think I'm gonna hit you with it or something?" She asked, a teasing note to her voice.

Daryl put the ladle through the bars and she went to take a drink. In an instant, she reached through the bars, swinging wildly at him with a nail. He stepped back, dodging her attack and grabbing her arm.

He pulled her sleeve back, revealing several black and purple bruises, and scars. She yanked her hand back, spitting the pill at Daryl and throwing the pill bottle to the ground as she stalked over to the other side of the cell.

With nothing to say, Daryl clenched his jaw and stormed out of the cellar.

.

.

Anna sat on the front steps of the house, idly watching the sun set as Henry put his dishes in the wash bin. She knew he was angry with them for using him. She hadn't been exactly thrilled about it either, but she'd been out-voted.

Movement in her peripheral finally caught her attention as Daryl came stalking around the corner, a shadow cast across his face. She remained seated as he approached.

"What happened?" She asked, glad to have the distraction.

"Bitch attacked me," Daryl huffed. "Tried to, anyway."

"Sit down," Anna said, patting the steps beside her.

Daryl huffed irritably but sat down, his arm pressed against hers.

"What else happened? What did you manage to find out?" She asked.

"Someone put them in danger and her mom killed them," Daryl said before shaking his head. "Somethin' ain't addin' up."

"I got that feeling too," Anna said. "She keeps getting her parents confused. From what she's said of her mom so far, she doesn't seem like the type to kill someone, even if they put them in danger. I would have thought it would be her dad."

"Yeah," Daryl said, seeming to ponder. "She said she was five or six when that happened."

"That's pretty young," Anna said before she hummed.

"What?" Daryl asked.

"Was there anything else?" She asked instead.

Daryl was quiet for a moment.

"What is it?" Anna pushed.

He sighed.

"Someone's beatin' her."

Anna tensed.

"She's got bruises up her arm. Looks like from a switch," Daryl said.

She looked to him, watching the way he seemed to be hyper focused on the dirt in front of them. She knew she wasn't the only one beating hit too close for. He didn't like to talk about it. When she'd first seen the scars crisscrossing over his back, she'd been stunned. He didn't tell her about them for a long time.

"Her mom must be a real piece of shit," Anna said, shaking her head.

"Yeah," Daryl agreed.

He pushed himself to his feet and started off.

"What are you going to do?" Anna asked, furrowing her brow.

"Gonna use that to our advantage," he said over his shoulder before he disappeared around the corner.

.

.

Daryl tossed the door open and made his way down the stairs slowly as he pulled the little protruding bits off the thin, bendy branch. He rounded the corner to find Lydia tucked between the wall and the bars, her eyes immediately going to the switch in his hands.

"You know, some dads would come up with any excuse… just to beat the shit out of their kids," Daryl began. "Maybe they're drunk. Maybe they can't get drunk. Belts are good. But these assholes," he yanked some leaves off the switch, "they ain't picky. They'll use whatever's layin' around. But a good switch from a birch tree… that'll work."

He held up the switch and her eyes followed it.

"Your dad sounds a lot like one of those dads," he said. "Except the part where he sang to you when you were scared. Those dads… they like it when you're scared. Thing is, that's the only part of your story that didn't sound like bullshit."

She finally looked to him.

"Now, you knew exactly what this was when I walked down here," he said, pointing at her with the switch. "And those bruises on your arm, they come from a beating. So, let me ask you; if your dad's dead, who gave 'em to you?"

"My mom," she said simply.

"Where is she?"

"Be glad you don't know," she said.

"Where is she?" He asked again. "Where's your camp? Why are you protectin' her? Huh? You're safer here."

"This place isn't real," Lydia scoffed. "The world changed, and you're all acting like it's gonna change back. My mom walks 'cause that's what the dead do. It's their world, and we have to live in it." She pulled up her sleeve. "And what my mom does, she does for a reason."

"Your mom beats you because she loves you?" Daryl asked, incredulous. "That's bullshit."

"No, it isn't," Lydia said. "When you stay soft, people die."

She told him about how she'd gone to look at the corpse of the man her mother had killed—overcome with a morbid curiosity. He had turned and gone after her. Awoken by her screams of terror, her father pushed her out of the way and was subsequently bitten. All Daryl could think was how he'd have done the same if it were his kid.

"You were just a little girl," Daryl said. "It wasn't your fault."

"I was stupid. I deserved to die," Lydia snapped. "But my dad was soft, and now he's the one that's dead."

"What was he supposed to do? Just watch his little girl get bit?" He asked, trying to ignore the lump forming in his throat.

"When you can't bend, you break. He broke," Lydia said coolly.

"That's not true," Daryl insisted. "We're making it better. We're building it back up again, changing it back."

"Yeah?" Lydia asked mockingly. "You don't belong with these people. Maybe you used to, but not anymore. You're hard, they're soft."

"You don't know shit about me," Daryl hissed

"So, tell me," Lydia said, only for him to stalk off. "Hey, I told you what happened to me. Tell me what happened to you."

He kept walking, ignoring her as she called after him,

"Hey! Tell me!"

He shut the cellar doors and made his way around the house, passing Henry. He said nothing as he made his way up the front steps.

"You could've just asked me to help," the boy said.

Daryl kept walking.

"Hey! Daryl!" Henry huffed.

Daryl stopped and looked at him, annoyed.

"Where are you going?" Henry asked.

"Girl's too messed up. She's a waste of time," Daryl explained. "She's Tara's problem."

"What's gonna happen to her?" Henry asked.

Daryl shook his head and went to keep walking, but Henry stopped him with another question.

"Did someone used to beat you up, too?"

Daryl turned to him with a warning glare.

"Once, I heard my dad ask my mom why she kept her hair so short," Henry started. "She said when it was long, her first husband would grab it and slam her against the wall." Daryl clenched his jaw. "So, one day, she just cut it all off so he couldn't. And I guess it took her this long to feel safe again."

Daryl bowed his head. It took a lot for Carol, him, and Anna to feel safe after everything they'd gone through.

"Sometimes…," Henry said and Daryl looked up again. "You act like the type of guy who slams people against walls, but I don't think that's it. Especially not with Anna."

"You shouldn't listen to people talk," Daryl huffed.

"Look," Henry sighed. "I know Lydia's people are bad, but that doesn't mean she's bad at all. She's just scared. You can show her there's nothing to be afraid of. You can do that. And only you."

"No," Daryl said, looking at the young man in front of him. "Not just me."

.

.

"So, we're letting Henry do this?" Anna asked, walking beside Daryl through Hilltop.

The sun had inched its way below the horizon about an hour ago, and the majority of the community had gone to bed, leaving Anna and Daryl to roam the walls in peace. Anna found that she liked walking with Daryl, particularly through the woods at night. Sometimes they'd talk, and sometimes it was nice to enjoy the quiet. Daryl insisted they walk more after what happened, if only to get her out of the cabin.

"What do we have to lose?" Daryl shrugged.

"Henry, for one," Anna said. "If he lets her out, what if she hurts him?" Though she knew Henry could handle himself.

"He ain't gonna let her out," he assured.

"I'm not much of a gambler, but I'm willing to bet that he will," Anna said with a playful smirk.

"He won't," Daryl insisted as they stopped behind the blacksmith stall. "He ain't that—"

The crying of a baby interrupted him, and they turned to see one of the Hilltoppers standing on her trailer's front porch, trying to calm her infant. Pain shot through Anna like lightning, her heart twisting in her chest. She felt a phantom pain in her abdomen as she stared at the woman rocking her child, and felt a nasty sense of jealousy settle heavily in her stomach. She tried to push it aside.

Movement caught her eye in her peripheral, however, and she forced herself to turn her attention away. She saw Henry and Lydia standing together beside one of the picnic tables. Lydia's eyes were wide and darting around the area, overwhelmed by everything. Then she grabbed her head, her dark, matted hair falling in her face as she curled in on herself. Anna furrowed her brow and instinctively moved to comfort her when Daryl placed a hand on Anna's shoulder to hold her back.

"Put me back in the cell," Anna just barely heard the girl say.

"Okay," Henry said, nodding. "Okay."

He led her back behind the house.

"I guess Henry's way worked?" Anna pondered.

"Maybe," Daryl said.

Anna went to turn to Daryl when her eyes landed on the woman again. The baby had settled down, and the woman cooed lovingly at the bundle in her arms.

"You good?" Daryl asked, his hand finding its way to her lower back.

"I'm…," she started. "Not really."

He nodded and pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight. She buried her face into his chest as his arms coiled around her waist, breathing him in and focusing on his warmth and steadiness. Anna tried to give as much back to him, knowing he needed this as much as she did; this closeness. He was hurting, too.

.

Come morning, Anna and Daryl made their way into the cellar, Daryl carrying a tray of breakfast. Anna wasn't exactly surprised when she saw Henry and Lydia sitting on the floor together.

"She didn't want to be alone," Henry explained, getting up.

Anna looked to Lydia through the bars.

"My ear hurts," she said. "Everything hurts. You still have those pills?"

Anna nodded and pulled a pill bottle from her pocket, passing Lydia the medicine before ladling some water. Once Lydia had taken the medicine, she sat back and sighed.

"My mom's not coming for me," she stated. "None of them are. If someone dies or gets taken or whatever, they move on. Like they never existed."

Anna frowned.

"That's how it's always been. They don't come into contact with big groups unless they don't have another choice," Lydia said. "That's why I… I was trying to find out everything I could about you. 'Cause then when I escaped, I'd have something to give them. No reason for them to take me back."

"You're her daughter," Anna said, her anger flaring. "Does that not matter?"

Lydia looked to Anna before she looked down at the ground, unable to answer.

"What about our missing people?" Daryl asked.

"If my mom found them…," Lydia shook her head. "I can't think of a reason she'd keep them alive. Sorry."

"She got a camp somewhere?" Daryl asked, pulling up a chair and sitting down.

"Near the guard bridge," Lydia nodded. "Maybe a mile east. But we don't… they don't stay in one place for long."

"The story about your family… was any of it true?" Henry asked.

"I thought all of it was," Lydia said, bowing her head. "I needed it to be. But I had it all mixed up. It was a lie, but… the lie wasn't mine. My mom…," she cleared her throat, "she told it to me… over and over, for years. But… deep down, I knew…," she said, her voice straining as she tried not to cry. "I knew what she was, and… I knew what she did."

It hadn't been her father who had saved her, but one of the other men stuck in the basement. As he fought off the walkerfied Matias, he'd been struck by a stray ax, and a fight broke out. Her mother had tried to pry the boards from the walls with her hunting knife, telling her father that the people they'd been with for almost two months were nothing more than idiots they'd gotten stuck with. Her father had refused to leave, and he'd refused to let Lydia go. He went to make sure they could make it to the stairs, but he had not made it.

"He was against the wall… scared… and my mom was there. Had that cold look in her eye," Lydia said. "Then she... She got her knife. And then she—" she sobbed.

"It's okay," Anna said quickly, soothingly. "It's okay. We've heard enough."

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you," Lydia said, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry I wasted your time."

"You didn't," Daryl assured, getting up from his seat and heading out of the cellar.

Henry glanced at Anna before following after him. She watched him disappear.

"What's going to happen to me?"

Anna turned to Lydia, who continued to stare at the ground. Anna sighed and shook her head, moving to push Daryl's chair back against the wall.

"Daryl and I are going to talk to Tara," she said, her back to the girl.

"Why? After what my people did—"

"We've all done things," Anna shrugged, turning toward the cell.

She looked down at Lydia sitting pathetically on the ground, drawing circles in the dirt. Anna figured she couldn't be any more than fifteen. Nothing more than a child. She couldn't fathom executing anyone for something someone else had done—let alone a child.

Anna decided that if she didn't like what Tara had to say on the matter, she'd take the girl back to the cabin. She'd be safe there. But for now, she was safest in the cell.

"No matter what, you're going to be okay," Anna said with finality, and turned on her heel and headed out of the cellar.

"Hey, Daryl?" Henry called as Anna stepped outside. "I'm glad you and my mom are friends."

Anna smiled at that, walking past Henry to stand beside Daryl.

"Hey!" Tara called. "Daryl! Anna!"

"Magna!" Yumiko shouted.

Daryl and Anna frowned at each other and jogged to the front gates, meeting up with Magna, where they saw Tara and Yumiko standing on the lookout. Tara gestured for them to join her. The three climbed up and looked over the fence, seeing a group of walkers standing in the field, staring up at them.

A bald, female figure in gray walked between the walkers and stood at the outer gate.

"I am Alpha," came the woman's voice. "And we only want one thing from you. My daughter."