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Carol's heart sank when she saw Rick and Daryl come back without Sophia. She'd been so sure, so sure they would find her.
Except that she hadn't been. She'd spent the whole afternoon telling herself they would find her, but in truth she hadn't been able to imagine it at all. Somehow in this world, it was easier to imagine Sophia lost than to believe in a happy ending.
Daryl said he was sure there was no point in looking for Sophia after dark, that it would be better to start in the light. And he knew more about the woods than any of the rest of them, so he must be right, but trying to imagine her fearful girl out there alone, in the dark, with the dead walking in unexpected places—Carol was desperate to be with her girl, who had never been alone before. She had held herself back from going out there all day because Lori wasn't wrong: it had been better to let the more experienced people look than have them all wandering around messing up the tracks and getting lost themselves. Carol didn't pretend to any knowledge of the woods herself, and knew she could just as easily forget the way back, one tree looking just like the next. But … Sophia couldn't live out there alone, not even for the night. If only she knew which way she had gone, Carol could go, she could follow the tracks, she could—after all, what did it matter to the rest of them, if both she and Sophia went missing? Two less mouths to feed, two less helpless bodies to protect. Maybe if she just started walking …
But she knew they wouldn't let her go. The decency of people in the old world would instinctively compel them to keep her safe. So she didn't even ask.
Carol was holding on to her sanity by her fingernails, if Daryl was any judge. And he couldn't blame her. Little girl raised the way hers had been, scared of her daddy, raised by a mama who was equally scared … no wonder she'd run at the first sign of trouble. No wonder she hadn't been able to wait for Rick to come back. She didn't trust him, or anyone. Maybe not even her mama. Maybe she knew better than Carol thought that Carol hadn't been able to prevent the bad things happening in their own home. She sure as hell knew that no one had been able to prevent the bad things happening in the world.
And now she was out there, scared and on the run, with the dark coming. Daryl wished he thought he could track her in the dark, but he didn't dare. A flashlight would just be asking for any walker in the area to come after him, and none of the rest of these people had the first idea about how to find that little girl. If something happened to him, she was as good as dead. For her sake, he had to stop for the night, try to get some rest, start again in the morning.
It was hard as hell to look at Carol's hurting eyes and hold on to that decision, though. She was trusting him, in a way few people in his life ever had, trusting him to be right, and he wanted to turn around and rush right back out so he could be right for her, so he could bring her girl back and give her some kind of happy ending.
It was so hard not to just let go, scream and cry and throw things at Rick, blame him for having left Sophia behind. And the look on his face … he blamed himself, too, which didn't help make Carol feel any better.
Only Daryl did, oddly. Because he was calm. Where everyone else was on the edge of hysteria, worrying about Sophia, worrying about the walkers, worrying about how long they were going to have to sit here and wait while they looked for Sophia, Daryl was calm. Focused on the task at hand, which was finding Sophia. He was sure he would find her. Carol clung to that calm, that strength. Surely he knew; surely he had tracked people and animals before and he knew he could find her. She had to hold on to that, because there wasn't anything else to hold on to.
And she managed, until late at night, when everyone else was asleep. Only Carol couldn't sleep. The familiar warmth of Sophia's body, which had lain next to her most of every night for twelve years, was gone, and she wasn't sure she could ever sleep without it again. And in the silence, the soft breathing around her the only sound, the absence of music and ticking clocks and the steady hum of the refrigerator, all she could think about was her girl out there in the dark, terrified and alone and lost and bewildered.
If only Sophia was older; she might have outgrown her fearfulness, learned to be strong. Carol had been trying to find ways to teach her to be strong, before the world fell apart. But now … it was too late.
Sophia was lost. And if Sophia was lost, what did that mean for Carol? What life was there for her if Sophia was gone?
And in her despair, Carol buried her head in her folded arms and wept.