"Two of them." Beth draws her hand back again, pulling her blanket back tight around her. Sonia's told her something of what she needs to know about this place. She might as well tell her a little in turn. "My daddy's farm was in our family for a hundred-sixty years. We stayed there as long as we could, but..."

More than anything from that night, she remembers Patricia's hand tightening and weakening in hers when the walkers caught up to them. She doesn't want to share that with Sonia.

"Then we lived at a prison for a while, but that fell, too. Got us all split up that time." Somehow, parts of that were good, even though everything was awful. But those are memories she wants to keep to herself. She shrugs, a little wry. "Saw them for the first time since we left the prison, and then I was here."