Eric radioed late one evening while I was feeding Abby, and I hoped to cut our conversation short. I'd had a horrible day, plagued with a headache that left my temple throbbing and my patience thin. I thought maybe Abby was getting a cold. She cried nonstop and kept coughing. Nothing I did seemed to soothe her and we both got very little sleep.

"Is she okay?" Eric asked, sounding very concerned for his daughter after hearing she was getting sick. I yawned and tilted the bottle up so she could finish the bit of formula that was left.

"Dr. Carson said she's fine. I'm gonna lay her down after this bottle and see if she'll take a nap." I was really hoping she would because I felt like I was ready to pass out every time I closed my eyes.

"Poor thing. Is she eating good?" I could hear the worry in his voice, so, and I decided to be more reassuring.

"Yeah. She's just finishing a bottle."

"Okay. Well, I'll be coming to the Sanctuary tomorrow. I'm sure you could use a break." Eric sounded as tired as me, and I wondered how hard Simon was working him.

"I'm fine, Eric." It was a lie, but I didn't want him to worry anymore than he already was. He didn't need to be burdened with my Negan drama. "But Abby sure misses her daddy." I set the bottle down on my nightstand and propped her up against my chest. Abby began to whine as I burped her. Though she was irritable, I really felt like I was starting to get the hang of taking care of her.

After she burped, I swaddled her up in a blanket and laid her against my chest. Laying back against my pillows, I took the radio in one hand and rubbed Abby's back with my other.

"How are you holding up?" Eric asked—he was always asking me that.

"I'm hanging in there" I admitted with a sigh, trying to keep my eyes open.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he offered.

I paused, not knowing how forthright I should be with him. Staring down at the sleepy baby laying across my chest, I pursed my lips and then pressed the talk button.

"I'm just a little lonely, that's all."

Negan and I hadn't spoken since I ran off from him and Frankie. I'd given up hope that he would choose me over his wives, and decided to focus all my time and energy on Abigail. She demanded most of it anyways.

Static came through and then Eric let out a dry chuckle. "You and me both, sister."

"I miss you," I admitted. "And I miss Amy."

"Me too."

I still couldn't believe she was gone. Like a bad dream, I was always half-expecting to wake up and see her beautiful face. I wonder if Eric saw her sometimes the way I did, lingering in the dark, watching over me. Unlike the other ghosts of people from our past, her presence never felt menacing. Unless I was lingering outside of Negan's room, of course.

"And taking care of a baby is no joke," I spoke softer as Abby began to fuss again. "Especially a sick baby."

Eric laughed. "Well just hold out a little longer, and then I'll come save the day."

I smiled. "See you tomorrow, Superman."

"Bye, Elle."

After I said goodnight to Eric, I tried to get Abby to sleep. She continued to cry, and even her binky wasn't enough to calm her down. When she wouldn't sleep in her crib, I picked her up and carried her around my room. Movement seemed to help, so I stuck her pacifier in her mouth and carried her out into the hallway. It was late, and I hoped a little walk would be enough to help lull her.

I shushed her as we walked, and rocked my arms a bit. Abby's eyelids looked heavy, but she continued to look around the room and would whine every time I stopped moving. We went down a few different hallways and then came up to a familiar door. Dr. Carson's office was closed, but I couldn't help but wonder if the room was still locked. It had been so long since I'd had those wonderful little pills to help me feel numb. I'd gone through hell and back because of them, but they'd made the unbearable bearable.

For the first time in months, I missed them.

It would make everything easier—I'd be able to sleep again. I wouldn't have to feel anything anymore. Just that lovely nothingness. Sure, I might hallucinate again, but in between it would be like heaven. Eric would be home to watch Abby, and I could just drift for a few days. I wouldn't overdo it like last time. I'd just take enough to cope.

I was fantasizing about the little pills and the peace I knew they'd bring when I glanced down at the baby in my arms. Abby was staring up at me with big, curious eyes. She wasn't whining anymore. Instead, she was studying my face.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but in that moment, she looked afraid.

"What?" I asked, defensively. I almost wished she was crying again instead of gaping at me. She was just a baby, but I couldn't help but be reminded of Amy. I felt guilty as I realized what I was considering.

Though the pills called to me, I knew they could never be an option. Abby relied on me, and if I allowed myself to go down that road again, I might not come out the other side. Abby had been the key factor in my rehabilitation. Amy had brought me her ultrasound picture and I'd clung to it like a lifeline. Now she was here, and I needed to keep my promise to her mother.

Turning my back to Dr. Carson's office and on any temptation, I smirked down at Abby.

"You really are your mother's daughter."

Abby and I managed to get a bit of sleep that night. The next day, I asked Tanya if she could watch Abby so I could go to the marketplace. I hoped she wouldn't be too much trouble, but Tanya insisted she had it under control. As I handed the baby to her, she gave me a sympathetic smile. There was something weird about the way she was looking at me, but I didn't dwell on it.

I was still tempted to check and see if the infirmary was locked, but I forced myself to walk past the closed door. Drugs weren't going to make things easier, and I had to be stronger—for Abby.

As I entered the marketplace, I was surprised to see it was less busy than usual. Most vendors didn't have anyone standing in their lines, and those who did had very few customers. I couldn't help but wonder where everyone was. That area of the Sanctuary was usually bustling with noise. That day, it was almost eerily quiet.

Though Negan had insisted I take whatever I wanted like his Saviors, I gave myself points so I could purchase things. I would never convince him to make his men use the points system, but at least I didn't have to feel guilty for robbing people of their hard work. His men might feel entitled, but I didn't.

I walked over to a table where an assortment of handmade soaps were lined up. They were multicolored, with pretty swirls. I picked one up to smell its fragrance and inhaled. The vendor was an older man who smiled a bit at me as I continued to study the soaps. I smiled back.

I had just finished picking out two bars of soap when I glanced up and saw someone cutting in line at the table next to me. I almost didn't recognize him, but when I realized who it was, my heart dropped.

Sherry's husband—or rather, her former husband, Dwight, was standing only a few feet away. The Sanctuary workers all avoided his gaze as he picked up a loaf of bread and took it without paying for it. I could tell the vendor was annoyed, but they didn't say anything as he shoved the loaf into a messenger bag at his hip.

I couldn't look away from him. The entire left side of his face was permanently burned; the skin had bubbled up and was a soft pink color. His blonde hair was down, but it did very little to cover up the massive scar. I hadn't seen Dwight since the day I stormed off. It would have been the same day Negan burned him. Observing Negan's brutality up close was unnerving.

Dwight glanced up and over, meeting my gaze. He looked away, as if to hide his face, and then quickly hurried out of the marketplace. I watched as he left and felt sorry for him. He looked so different from the man I'd seen tied to that chair. I wondered if he'd been kept in the cells or made to work out on the fence. His torture had lasted a month, but now it appeared Negan had made him a Savior—or rather, broke him into one.

After paying with my points for the soap, I was walking back to my room when I saw a group of about twenty people gathered over in a corner room. Right away, I could hear crying—some of it was hysterical. One woman was on her knees, rocking back and forth. I didn't know what was going on, so I approached them cautiously, trying to see over them and what is was they were convening around.

Once I entered the room, I noticed there were candles set up on the floor and a few pictures hanging up on a cork-board attached to the wall. I tried my best to see the photos, but I couldn't get close enough. They looked like pictures of people, from what I could tell.

I stood confused towards the back of the group when I saw someone I knew.

"Danny!" I called to him, and he turned to look at me. It had been a long time since I'd spoken to the young man. Our last conversation had been when he'd apologized to me for turning us into Negan. I'd been so drugged up during his apology, I barely remembered it. Last I'd heard, he was working in the greenhouse with Vivienne. Though we weren't close, it was still nice to see someone I knew in a sea of strangers.

Coming over to where I was standing, he moved slow, as if he was unsure. The woman who was hysterical started to sob even louder, and I glanced over to watch someone rub her back soothingly. She was inconsolable.

"What's going on?" I asked, peeling my eyes off the distraught woman to look at him.

Danny's eyes widened. "You didn't hear?"

I shook my head, feeling confused. He fidgeted uncomfortably, but didn't elaborate.

"Danny, what happened?" I urged, tilting my head.

When he met my gaze, he swallowed hard. There was an eerily grim expression on his face.

"Simon's compound was attacked last night."

I blinked once, then again. What he said wasn't processing in my mind, as if it didn't make sense.

Then it did.

Eric.

I paled as I realized what he was saying.

No…

"Who… who got hurt?" I asked in a fearful voice. I studied the teenager's face, hoping to get a hint as to what happened. He shook his head and rubbed at his arm awkwardly.

"I think you need to talk to Negan, Elle," he said quietly. "I'm sorry."

I didn't even bother saying goodbye to him. I left the group in a haste and rushed up the stairwell. I sprinted as fast as my legs could carry me and my heart pounded loud in my ears.

When I reached Negan's room, I entered without knocking. He was sitting on his love-seat, but he wasn't relaxed like usual. He had a very serious expression on his face, and his head snapped over to see me come in and on instinct he reached for his bat. Simon was sitting across from him and turned to look at me.

"Elle-" Negan began to say, but I cut him off.

"What happened?" I asked, looking from each man, desperate to get some answers.

"I'm in the middle of a briefing," Negan chided, "I'll talk to you when I'm done."

"Are Eric and Naomi okay?" I asked, ignoring Negan and turning my attention on Simon. The mustached man wouldn't meet my gaze. The usual smile on his face was missing and he looked bleak. I began to feel sick.

"Simon, please," I begged, taking a step towards him. "Please tell me they're okay."

There was a chilling silence. Then Simon looked right at me with a deep frown.

"Everyone's dead."

I furrowed my brow as if I didn't hear him correctly, but the grim expression on his face told me he wasn't joking.

"But Eric…" I whispered, a look of shock on my face.

"He's gone, Elle." Negan said solemnly.

No.

Please no.

My knees felt weak, and I clutched onto the back of Simon's chair in order to keep myself from collapsing to the ground.

"What about Naomi?" I asked in a fearful voice. My bottom lip began to quiver as I waited to hear the answer I already knew.

"She's dead. They're all dead." Simon said low. "A group attacked the outpost late last night. They tried being stealthy, but someone managed to sound the alarm. One of our lieutenants, Paula, had hostages this morning, but we've lost contact with them. The men we sent as backup haven't reported in either."

I could hear him clear as day, and I understood every word he was saying, but none of it made any sense. I suddenly couldn't breathe. Simon continued to speak, but his voice became garbled as I stared off into space.

Eric—my friend, and Abby's father, was dead.

And Naomi—who had always been so good to me, was dead too.

'I'll make sure he stays out of trouble.'

I remembered her kind smile as she promised to watch over Eric for me. Tears welled up into my eyes as the realization two more people I cared about were gone.

Simon was still talking when I spoke over him.

"How did it happen?" My voice cracked as I began to cry. A short silence followed and then I finally turned to look at Negan.

"You don't need the details," he said dismissively. When he wouldn't answer me, I looked back at Simon. He was staring down at his hands and had a guilty expression on his face.

"How did they die, Simon?" I asked as tears rolled down my cheeks. Simon took a deep breath and then looked back up at me.

"They were stabbed in the head while they slept."

I closed my eyes and felt my whole body start to shake.

This can't be real.

Eric was supposed to come home that day. He was supposed to see Abby. He was looking forward to it. She needed her dad. She already lost her mom. She couldn't lose him too.

He can't be dead.

I was standing there with tears falling down my face when Negan stood up from the love-seat.

"Get the fuck on it, Simon," he ordered.

"Yes, boss."

As his left-hand man exited the room, I brought a hand up to cover my mouth and stared in horror at the far wall. Negan came over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder, steering me in the direction of the couch.

"Sit down, Elle."

I slowly looked up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes, but refused to sit.

"Who did this?"

"I'm fucking handling it."

I hated that he wasn't being upfront with me about what happened. My sadness quickly transformed into anger, and I pulled away from his grasp.

"Is it the same group that blew up your men?" I demanded to know.

"Fuck…Maybe? I don't know yet, Elle." He tried to guide me to the couch again, but I yanked my arm away.

"They wouldn't attack unprovoked. What did you do?" I began to shout through my tears. "What the FUCK did you do, Negan?!"

"It doesn't FUCKING matter!" he bellowed. "Will you just sit down!? You're in shock!"

"It's one of your communities, isn't it? You pushed them too far, and now they're fighting back." I shoved against his chest, but he didn't budge. "You sent Eric to that compound! You sent him to DIE!" I began to sob as I pushed against him. I was so angry in that moment. With Negan—with the whole fucking world.

Everyone I cared about ended up dead. Eric had gone to Simon's compound to help. He was trying to do right by Negan, and it ultimately got him killed.

Now—just like Amy, he was gone.

I broke down crying, covering my face with my hands as I completely lost it. Somehow this was worse. I knew Simon wouldn't lie, but unlike Amy, I didn't see Eric die. He just didn't exist anymore, as if he was wiped away in a single instant. I'd spent all day waiting for him to arrive, excited to see that cheerful smile he always got when looking at Abby.

I knew I'd never see that smile again.

Negan wrapped his arms around me the second I stopped shoving him. I buried my face against his chest as he pulled me into an embrace, and I began to wail.

"He was supposed to come home!" I bawled, clutching onto Negan. "Abby's lost both her parents now."

Negan held me close as I sobbed into his shirt.

"I'm sorry, Elle."

He sounded despondent, and I realized what this meant for him. I lost Eric and Naomi, but Simon's compound was filled with other people. All the Sanctuary members gathered downstairs lost their loved ones. They were all mourning their friends and family. Negan had been responsible for every single one of them.

"I'm gonna fix this," he whispered, petting the back of my head. "I'll make them fucking pay."

"How?" I asked, stepping out of his arms to look up at his face. When he didn't answer, I frowned. "Eric told me about the pictures at the outpost. Are you gonna beat them all the death with your bat?"

He turned his head to the side and clenched his jaw.

"Elle.."

"We can talk to them."

Negan faced me again and his eyes widened, looking at me as if I was insane.

"It's way too fucking late for talking."

"You showed Greenbrier mercy and gained men. Loyal men." I argued through my sniffling.

"Yeah, only after I beat King Mallrat to death. I should have killed him sooner. You almost got hurt."

"Not everyone is like Derek. This group has a leader. Maybe we can talk to him or her. If they'd be willing to just sit down with us, we could work something out."

"Like we did with Derek?" Negan asked sardonically.

I didn't know how to respond to that. He was challenging me, pointing out I was only preparing to repeat history. Negan had almost died because I led him into Doveport to try and work out negotiations with Greenbrier. Derek hadn't followed my rules.

When I didn't say anything, Negan continued.

"Why the fuck would you want to compromise with the people who killed Eric?"

"Because revenge hasn't gotten us anywhere! I beat Adam to death and it didn't make me feel better. It made me feel worse. I hate them for taking Eric away from me…from Abby…But we have to be careful in how we move forward, for her sake. You've bullied these people too far, and you're going to continue to pay the price…."

"I'm not paying for shit." He cut me off and stared at me sternly. "This is my world now, and they're about to learn who's really in charge."

"How long until they find the Sanctuary?" I challenged. "How long until all these little communities band together to take you out?"

Negan opened his mouth, but then stopped himself. He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. I knew I sounded crazy; I was defending the people who murdered Eric, but if we wanted to survive, we needed to be careful. Negan was making too many enemies, and because of it, we were all in danger.

When he looked back at me, I could tell his mind was made up.

"I know you want to show mercy, but it's that fucking kind-heart of yours that's cost you everything. You let Caleb into the school. You befriended Derek and you trusted him. It's a dog-eat-dog world, and these stupid pricks just ate a lot of my fucking dogs."

"Is that what Eric was to you? A dog?" I furrowed my brows at him and his ugly choice of words. "Is that all we are to you?"

Negan sighed in frustration. "I know Eric was important to you. That's exactly why we need to fight back. I can end this."

I can't explain it, but for a split second, I felt a huge sense of dread. If was as if I had a glimpse into the future—and it wasn't pretty.

"No, Negan," I whispered, as tears began to fall down my face again. At the sight of me crying, he offered his arms out to me. I let him hold me again and closed my eyes."I think this is just the beginning."

This group was going to cause hell for us; I could feel it.

"Abby can't get in the middle of this." I whispered in a broken voice.

"She won't. I fucking swear it, Elle. I'll keep you both safe." He spoke with such conviction. I couldn't help but continue to picture Eric in the back of my mind's eye.

Then I realized I'd said something similar to Amy not so long ago…

"We are going to be okay," I'd said, trying to reassure her. I'd just betrayed her trust and told Negan she was pregnant, and she was so angry with me. I was trying to make her feel better. I wanted her not to worry.

"You can't promise that, Elle."

As if the memory summoned her, I suddenly saw Amy. She was standing in Negan's room, across the way. Her red hair was pulled back in its usual ponytail, and she was looking right at me with wide eyes.

She was crying.

Eric wasn't with her.

I wondered if they'd find each other, or if they'd spend the rest of eternity searching. Or maybe these spirits I kept seeing didn't exist and they were erased from the earth forever.

Meeting Amy's eyes, I felt hollow as I answered Negan.

"You can't promise that."