Chapter 4 – "The Weight We Carry"
(Maria's POV)
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Most mornings, I'm up before the sun. Old habits die hard, I guess. Even after everything, I can't sleep in—not with so much left to do, not with so much I'm trying not to think about.
I start the coffee first. Bitter. No cream. Never liked it sweet. The silence in the kitchen used to be peaceful. Now it just echoes.
It's been a year since I left Tommy.
I don't regret the decision. I regret the moment it became necessary. The moment I looked in his eyes and saw someone I couldn't reach anymore. The man I married—who held my hand under the stars and talked about rebuilding the world—got buried under rage and guilt I couldn't dig through.
Searching for things he'd never find.
I didn't want to leave. I tried. I don't like quitting things. Not my nature.
But you can't love someone enough to bring them back if they don't want to come back themselves.
Still… I miss him. In little ways.
The way he used to make terrible jokes while drawing up blueprints.
The way his hand would rest heavy on my back when I couldn't breathe after a hard day.
The way he'd keep watch over every room, quiet but alert.
A shepherd watching over his flock.
Now I keep watch alone.
My days are filled with lists—supply logs, shifts, training rotations. I teach kids how to hold a rifle steady and pray they never have to use it. I check the food stores. I answer complaints. I bury my hands in the work so I don't have to feel the space beside me every night.
This went on ever since they came back from that fucking suicide mission in Seattle.
Not a day goes by I don't curse myself for not forcing those girls to stay. How did I let that happen?
They would've kicked and screamed, but so what? It wouldn't matter.
I should've sent a crew to drag Tommy home.
Should've locked Ellie and Dina up if I had to.
I let my own hurt allow them to leave.
I'll never forgive myself for that.
Not after everything we endured.
Then one day, Dina came back.
It was an overcast summer morning. I was going over lumber allocations when someone knocked. One of the gate guards—nervous-looking.
"She's back," he said, eyes shifting away from mine. "With the kid."
I didn't need him to say who.
By the time I made it down to Main Street, people had gathered. Jesse's parents were already crying, JJ clinging to his grandmother's scarf like it was a lifeline.
And Dina… Dina looked like a ghost of herself.
Pale. Thinner. Eyes rimmed red, but too tired to cry anymore.
I didn't say anything. Just walked up and pulled her into my arms.
She didn't need to explain.
I already knew.
She held on so tight it hurt.
Later, I helped her settle into housing. Made sure JJ had clothes, food, everything he needed.
That night, she sat across from me in her kitchen, staring at nothing while the baby monitor buzzed faintly on the counter.
"She loved you," I whispered, reaching for her hand. "I know she still does."
Dina didn't respond. Just kept looking out the window.
I didn't press.
I knew what it meant to love someone who couldn't stay.
Who was no longer themself.
Since then, my life's gone back to quiet.
The kind of quiet that hums behind your ribs and never quite leaves you.
I work. I lead. I smile when I have to.
But sometimes—late at night—I turn toward the other pillow and let my mind wander.
I wonder if he thinks of me.
I wonder if Ellie's still alive out there.
I wonder what it would take to bring any of us back.
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It was just before sundown when one of my guards—Caleb—came knocking. Two quick, sharp raps on my office door.
I looked up, expecting a supply issue. Or a squabble over rations.
"There's someone at the gate," he said warily. "They asked for you by name."
I stared at him blankly, waiting. "Who?"
"They didn't say. Just said it was important." He shrugged.
I grabbed my coat. The wind had picked up.
Chilled from the air—and from whatever was waiting out there.
I didn't know who it was.
But I had a feeling.
Everything was about to change.
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