She's about to try another jab at him, but his question stops her. The right answer is no reason or I can't tell you. And she's tired of the right answer--it means lying about something so basic that every other part of her existence is affected by it.
Beth lowers her knife, the tension of a waiting attack disappearing.
"Promise not to tell Daryl I said anything." She's tired of meandering around the question, awkwardly avoiding an explanation she wants to give anyway. "He freaked out when he found out I told people."
And it was stupid, say her rolling eyes. She gets why he was worried--the way Byerly's face went bloodless at the idea of the pathogen--but trying to act like everything at home was normal is impossible. Nothing about home was normal, by the end of it, even if there were pockets of time when she could believe they could have real lives again.
no subject
Beth lowers her knife, the tension of a waiting attack disappearing.
"Promise not to tell Daryl I said anything." She's tired of meandering around the question, awkwardly avoiding an explanation she wants to give anyway. "He freaked out when he found out I told people."
And it was stupid, say her rolling eyes. She gets why he was worried--the way Byerly's face went bloodless at the idea of the pathogen--but trying to act like everything at home was normal is impossible. Nothing about home was normal, by the end of it, even if there were pockets of time when she could believe they could have real lives again.