⋆𝟷𝟷𝟶|sᴋɪɴ ғʀᴇᴀᴋs
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
"𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬."
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.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .
The dim light from the lantern flickered as Sunny sat cross-legged on the cold floor outside Lydia's cell, a makeshift hangman game scratched onto a sheet of paper between them. Lydia sat on the cot, her knees tucked to her chest, holding the pencil.
Much to her surprise, Daryl was actually okay with her visiting Lydia now. Well, he still wanted her to be safe, but his like for the girl seemed to be growing as well. So, Sunny spent most of her time in the cells, trying to make Lydia come more out of her shell, which is probably why Daryl allowed it too, wanting to get more information out of her.
"Your turn to pick a word," Lydia said quietly, her voice soft but a little less hesitant than it had once been.
Sunny shook her head, smirking. "Nuh-uh. Daryl and Henry said I ain't allowed to pick words no more. I make 'em impossible."
Lydia's lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile. "What kind of words?"
Sunny shrugged, pretending to look innocent. "Y'know, normal ones. Like... collywobbles."
Lydia blinked at her. "That's not a word."
"It is too!" Sunny grinned. "It's one of my favorites. Means butterflies in your stomach or somethin'."
Lydia stared at her, a flicker of disbelief in her eyes. "You're weird."
"Thanks," Sunny said proudly, leaning over to grab the pencil from Lydia. "C'mon, what's your word?"
Lydia shook her head, clearly fighting the urge to roll her eyes, and scribbled a new word onto the paper. She handed it back to Sunny, who studied the blank spaces with exaggerated concentration.
"Hmm," Sunny muttered, tapping the pencil against her chin. "I'm feelin' a good ol' A to start us off."
Lydia nodded and filled in the space, her movements a little more relaxed than they'd been before. Just as Sunny was about to throw out her next guess, muffled yelling echoed from above them. She froze, tilting her head toward the ceiling. The voices were angry, harsh, and growing louder.
Lydia glanced toward the stairs, her shoulders tensing. "What's that?"
"Dunno," Sunny said, already getting to her feet. She dusted off her pants and shot Lydia a quick look. "I'll be back."
Lydia nodded but didn't say anything, watching as Sunny hurried up the stairs, her boots barely making a sound against the worn wood.
Sunny wasn't sure what was going on, but the yelling set her on edge. As she climbed higher, the voices became clearer, and her chest tightened. Whatever it was, it wasn't good.
As Sunny reached outside, she saw a ton of people running towards the gates, spears in hand. The girls brows furrowed as she made her way towards where people were gathering, her eyes first landing on Henry as he looked up towards the guard tower.
"Henry!" She yelled, running towards him. "What's goin' on?" She quickly asked.
But, her answers quickly came as she looked out of the small gap in the gates, seeing a shit ton of walkers. Why was there so much commotion over walkers? They'd easily be able to handle them.
But, her eyes then narrowed in on a bald woman standing in the middle of them. Oh. These weren't walkers, they were Lydia's group. All of them apart from the woman had on masks of the dead. Though Sunny had heard about them, she hadn't imagined a sight so sickening.
Henry turned to her, his face pale and tense. "That's her mom," he said, nodding toward the bald woman standing eerily still among the horde of masked figures. His voice was low, but there was an edge of fear in it.
Sunny's stomach dropped as she stared at the woman. So this was the one Lydia had spoken about—the one who hurt her, who had made her live this nightmare.
"What's she doin' here?" Sunny asked, her voice sharp.
Henry swallowed hard, glancing up at the guard post. "Daryl's been talking to her. I guess she wants—" He stopped himself, frowning as if he wasn't sure if he should say it.
"Wants what?" Sunny pressed, stepping closer to him.
Before Henry could respond, Daryl climbed down from the guard post, his face set in a hard scowl. He didn't even look at them as he stomped past, heading straight for the gate.
"Daryl!" Sunny called after him, jogging to catch up. "What does she want?"
His silence was enough of an answer.
"She wants Lydia back, don't she?" Sunny accused, her voice rising. "Well, no! Ya can't give her back!"
Daryl growled low in his throat, his pace quickening. "She ain't gettin' her," he snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Sunny let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, relief mixing with the fury still simmering inside her. She sped up to keep pace with him. "Then what're ya gonna do?"
Daryl didn't answer, his jaw tight as they approached the gate where the other Hilltoppers stood ready with weapons. The bald woman hadn't moved, her cold eyes scanning the crowd as if she were sizing them up.
"She's not leaving without her," Henry muttered, his voice just loud enough for Sunny to hear.
"She ain't leavin' with her neither," Sunny shot back, her hands balling into fists. Whatever happened next, she knew one thing for sure—Lydia wasn't going back to that monster.
Daryl then walked out of the gates, making Sunny's eyebrows pinch together with worry. This woman was dangerous, why would he just go out there on his own? She had no idea, but she was scared.
"He'll know what to do. It's fine," Henry reassured the girl, but Sunny wasn't quite sure if he was right.
Sunny stepped closer to the gate, peering out as she could see Daryl approaching the weird ass group. It seemed as if they were talking, but Sunny had no idea what was being said. But then, the sound of a baby crying made her eyes widen.
One of the skin freaks were holding onto a baby, an actual baby. Why the hell would they bring a baby here? It made no sense whatsoever. But before she could even think about it, two people were brought out, the masks were ripped from their heads and knives put to their throats.
Alden and Luke.
The bald woman wanted to trade, that much was clear now. Alden and Luke for Lydia. That was the deal. Sunny's fists clenched at her sides, knowing already the choice that was going to be made. They were going to give Lydia back to her mom.
Her chest tightened as she watched the scene unfold. Her eyes flicked between Alden and Luke, their faces pale and scared, and the group of skin freaks standing so still it was eerie. Lydia couldn't go back with them. She just couldn't.
Lydia was good. Sunny had seen it, even if the others didn't believe it yet. She wasn't like them. She didn't belong with them. Her mom hurt her, controlled her, made her live in fear. Nobody deserved that, especially not Lydia.
Her hands trembled at her sides as her thoughts raced. How could they even think about sending her back? How could Daryl, Henry, anyone be okay with giving her up to... to that?
Sunny's eyes locked on the bald woman again. Alpha—that's what Lydia had called her. She didn't look like a mom. She looked like a monster, cold and unfeeling, the kind of person who saw everyone as nothing more than tools to use and throw away.
The thought of Lydia going back to her made Sunny feel sick.
Her jaw clenched as her mind spiraled. If this was about her—if it were her dad—would they send her back? Would they look at her and decide she wasn't worth saving because of who she came from? Would Daryl fight for her the way she wanted him to fight for Lydia?
Sunny swallowed hard, her fists still clenched. Lydia wasn't going back. Not if Sunny could help it.
She shifted closer to Henry, her voice barely a whisper as she leaned toward him. "We can't let 'em take her," she hissed, her eyes darting back to the scene at the gates.
Henry's jaw tightened, his gaze fixed on the skin freaks standing like statues among the walkers. "What are we supposed to do?" He muttered, his voice low but uneasy. "We can't do anything, Sunny. It's not up to us."
Sunny frowned, her hands curling into fists. "We have to," she said, her voice shaking with determination. "We need to help her, Henry. She doesn't deserve this."
Henry glanced at her, his expression conflicted. He hesitated for a moment before sighing. "Alright," he finally said, though his tone was reluctant. "We'll figure something out."
Sunny looked at him, her brows furrowing. She could tell he wasn't entirely convinced, but she didn't care. He'd agreed, and that was enough for now. Whatever it took, they weren't going to let Lydia go back to her mom.
.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .
Sunny was nervously chewing on the skin around her fingers, she was stupid, she knew that. She didn't truly know what she was hoping for, or how she expected things to go. But, her naive mind just hoped if Lydia wasn't at Hilltop, her mom would just leave. Stupid.
Now, her, Henry and Lydia were tucked away in the small cabin they'd drunk in, praying it would be enough to keep Lydia safe.
Sunny glanced around the dimly lit cabin, her nerves eating away at her as she paced the small space. She could hear Henry and Lydia whispering behind her, but their words barely registered. Her mind was racing, filled with a hundred different scenarios of how this could go wrong.
"This is stupid," she muttered under her breath, shaking her head. "This is so damn stupid."
"You've said that already," Henry replied from where he sat on an old chair, his arms resting on his knees. He tried to sound calm, but the way his leg bounced gave away his nerves.
Lydia sat on the edge of the cot, her knees drawn to her chest. Her face was pale, her hands gripping the fabric of her shirt. "You shouldn't have done this," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Sunny stopped pacing and turned to her. "What else were we supposed to do? Let 'em take you?"
Lydia looked away, her expression unreadable. "It would've been easier. They're not gonna stop looking for me. You know that, right?"
"We don't care!" Sunny snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I don't care what they do. You don't deserve to go back to that."
God, Sunny remembered her time at the sanctuary, how she hoped and hoped someone would finally save her from the nightmare, but they never did. And it broke her heart. She understood now it would have been impossible for them to get her out of there, but as a traumatized 12 year old, she just believed everyone hated her.
When she was finally back in Alexandria, Rick and Daryl had fought for her safety, ensuring there was no way she would go back to Negan. Now, Lydia needed someone to fight for her.
Henry stood up, stepping between them like a mediator. "Look, we're here now, okay? Let's just figure out what to do next."
Sunny scoffed, running a hand through her hair. "We don't got no place to go. Don't help that those freaks are gonna kill Alden 'n Luke." Sunny murmured, wiping a hand over her face, but then she looked towards Lydia. "No offence."
"It's fine," Lydia replied quietly.
Henry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You'll figure it out, Sunny. You always do," Henry said to her, but his kind words of encouragement just felt like a lie, she had no idea what she could possibly do.
The room fell into silence, the weight of their decision pressing down on all of them. Sunny sank onto a crate in the corner, her elbows resting on her knees as she buried her face in her hands.
"She wasn't supposed to come," Lydia then said, staring at the ground. "She broke her own rules. Maybe she misses me. Maybe she's sorry."
Sunny frowned at her words, a deep ache settling in her chest. Lydia's voice held the faintest trace of hope, fragile and desperate. Sunny recognized it all too well—it was the same kind of hope she'd clung to for years when she thought about Negan.
The hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd change.
Sunny's fingers curled into her palms as her thoughts spiraled. She remembered all the times she'd convinced herself that Negan wasn't so bad, that he was just misunderstood or had reasons for the things he did. She'd ignored the way he could be cruel, excused the hurt he caused, all because she wanted to believe there was still good in him.
But it had been naive.
And Lydia's hope? It was just as naive.
"She's not sorry," Sunny said finally, her voice quieter than she intended. Lydia glanced up, her brows furrowing.
"You don't know that," Lydia argued softly, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the cot.
Sunny sighed, her jaw tightening. "Yeah, I do. She ain't sorry, Lydia. People like her—they don't change. They don't miss you. They just want control."
Lydia's face crumpled, and for a moment, Sunny regretted her words. But it needed to be said. She couldn't let Lydia keep believing her mom would magically turn into someone she wasn't.
"She's still my mom," Lydia said quietly, her voice trembling.
Sunny swallowed hard, feeling a bitter mix of frustration and sympathy. "I get it," she murmured, her gaze dropping to the floor. "Believe me, I do."
Lydia looked at her, confusion flashing across her face.
Sunny hesitated, debating how much to say. "I used to think the same thing 'bout my first dad," she admitted, her voice low. "That maybe he'd change, or maybe I just didn't see the good in him like I should've."
She exhaled shakily, her eyes distant. "But he didn't change. And I realized... it wasn't my job to find the good in him if he didn't care enough to show it."
Lydia didn't respond right away, her expression a mix of sadness and understanding.
"I ain't saying it's easy," Sunny added softly, glancing up at her. "But you can't keep waitin' for her to be somethin' she's not. You deserve better than that."
Lydia pressed her lips together, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She didn't say anything, but the way her shoulders slumped told Sunny her words had hit home.
Sunny looked away, guilt creeping in. She didn't want to crush Lydia's hope, but pretending her mom would ever be sorry wasn't going to help her. It would only hurt her more in the end.
Sunny was about to say something else when a voice suddenly cut through the air, sharp and urgent.
"Sunny! Henry!"
Both of them froze, eyes widening.
"Who the hell is that?" Henry whispered, looking at Sunny, his expression tense.
Sunny's stomach dropped. She brushed the dirt off her pants, glancing at Lydia. "Stay here. Don't make a sound." Lydia nodded quickly, her eyes wide with anxiety.
Sunny didn't wait for any more reassurance; she quickly pushed open the cabin door and stepped out, Henry right behind her.
As they made their way around the corner of the cabin, Sunny saw Addy and Enid standing a little ways down the path, the worry evident on their faces. Addy had her hands up in a gesture of apology, but her expression was full of concern.
"I'm sorry," Addy called out when she saw them, her voice soft but heavy with guilt. "I—I didn't want to tell her..."
Sunny's eyes narrowed, but she stayed silent for a moment. She could feel Henry's unease beside her, but she wasn't going to back down.
"You shouldn't have told anyone," Sunny replied coldly. "Now they're comin' for her."
Sunny's frustration bubbled to the surface. She had been fighting for Lydia, fighting for her to have a chance, and now everything felt like it was falling apart. Why were Henry and her the only ones wanting to give Lydia a chance. It wasn't right.
"Y'all are makin' the wrong choice," she said, her voice firm. "Lydia deserves to be with us. She doesn't belong with those people. She's been through enough."
Enid stepped forward, her eyebrows pinched together. "If there was something I could do to help her, I would. No one wants this. But Lydia, she doesn't belong to us. Okay? Alden and Luke do. Her mom will kill them if we don't give her back."
Sunny chewed on her bottom lip, she didn't want the two men to die, but it just felt like betrayal if she let Lydia leave. She didn't deserve that, she didn't deserve any of it.
"It's... It's bullshit." Sunny finally said, biting the inside of her cheek. "There's gotta be somethin' else we can do."
"There isn't," Enid said firmly. "I'm sorry."
Sunny's chest tightened as she heard Enid's words, but it didn't make the truth any easier to swallow. There isn't. It felt like the ground was crumbling beneath her feet, like everything she'd fought for had just slipped through her fingers. How could this be happening? How could they be forced to give up on Lydia when she didn't deserve any of this?
Sunny clenched her fists at her sides, fighting the sting behind her eyes. She wanted to scream, to tell Enid that she was wrong, that they could do something, that it didn't have to be this way. But deep down, a part of her knew the truth. The truth she didn't want to face.
Lydia was going back to her mother. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Her mind replayed everything—their quiet moments together, the bond they'd started to form, the trust Lydia had been slowly building. And now it was all about to be torn apart. Sunny had hoped for so much more for her, but sometimes, hope just wasn't enough.
I should've tried harder, she thought bitterly. I should've figured something out.
But the worst part, the part that twisted in her gut the most, was that it was the same thing that had always haunted her. People leaving. People disappearing. She had tried to protect Lydia, tried to show her that things could be different, that maybe, just maybe, they could be a family in this broken world. But no one else seemed to see it the same way. They saw the danger, the risk of keeping Lydia around, and all the reasons why it couldn't work.
But what about Lydia's reasons? What about her pain?
She exhaled shakily. I can't just let her go back to that—to her mom. Not when she's already been hurt enough. She had to do something. She couldn't just accept it. Not now. Not after everything they'd been through.
But how?
Her mind raced, trying to come up with a plan. She could still see Lydia's face, full of confusion and hope, even in the face of everything. How could she just let that hope fade? She couldn't. She wouldn't.
There had to be another way. There had to be a chance to fight this.
But, the sound of the cabin door opening tore her out of her thoughts. She turned to see Lydia stepping out, the same expression on her face that she had seen on other people time and time again. Acceptance.
"Sunny, it's okay. I'm gonna go," Lydia said, making Sunny want to yell and scream, but she was just frozen. "I want to go. She's my mother, they're my people. I miss them."
Sunny knew it was bullshit, a lie the girl was telling herself to make it all okay. But it wasn't okay, far from it. Lydia deserved the chance to live a proper life, not stuck under her mother's thumb, living like an animal. But there were no more options left for her to turn to, Lydia had to go.
"I'm gonna miss you, too." Lydia then said, stepping forward and hugging the girl. "Thank you for... for everything," she said quietly.
Sunny slowly hugged the girl back, but she felt undeserving for the girls gratitude. After all, she hadn't been able to help her. She tried to keep her tears at bay, but some managed to slip through. She hated this, she hated everything about it.
Everything after that moment felt like a blur. Before long, they were all gathered by the gates, watching as Daryl and Alpha met halfway. Daryl let Lydia walk toward her mother, and in the same breath, Alden and Luke were released. Yumiko and Enid rushed forward to embrace them, their relief palpable.
Sunny's eyes were fixed on Lydia, who hesitated, her head down, her steps slow as she walked toward the woman. The air between them was thick with tension, and for a long, agonizing moment, neither moved. Then, without warning, Alpha's hand shot out, slapping Lydia hard across the face.
Sunny's heart lurched. She moved instinctively, about to rush forward, but it was Henry who grabbed her arm, holding her back with a firm grip. "We can't do anything," he said quietly, his voice strained. But Sunny wasn't so sure. She couldn't just stand there and let this happen, not when it was so wrong.
Lydia stood there, dazed for a moment, but then, to everyone's shock, Alpha pulled her into a hug—an embrace that felt cold, almost calculated, like it was all part of some twisted game.
With one last, almost imperceptible glance toward them, Alpha turned and led Lydia away. The others followed without a word, walking away from the gate as if nothing had happened. Just like that, it was over.
That was it.
.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .
Everyone seemed to just be getting on with the rest of the day, trying to forget they just let a kid go back to their abuser, to a literal monster. But Sunny couldn't forget, she wouldn't.
She was angry, yet hurting at the same time. Everything just felt so wrong. She tried to keep her mind busy by doing anything, but all she could think about was Lydia, about how she deserved so much better than the hand she'd been given.
Daryl's footsteps echoed through the quiet of the barn as he approached Sunny, his shadow stretching long across the floor. He stopped a few feet away from her, not saying anything at first, just watching her as she absentmindedly ran a hand over the wood of the table, her jaw set in a hard line.
The anger was still there, but there was something else—something quieter, deeper. Pain. She couldn't hide it.
Finally, he broke the silence.
"Sunny," his voice was rough, like it always was when he was trying to tread lightly. "I know you're pissed. Ya got every right to be."
Sunny didn't turn around, didn't even look at him. She just clenched her fists tighter, trying to swallow the storm brewing inside her.
"You don't know shit," she muttered under her breath, her voice tinged with bitterness.
Daryl stayed quiet for a moment, letting her words settle between them. He wasn't surprised by her reaction, not really. She'd been holding it in for so long, the anger, the frustration, the helplessness.
"I'm sorry, Sun," he finally said, stepping closer but not pushing her. He wasn't going to force her to listen if she didn't want to. "But there wasn't no other choice. We couldn't risk it. Not for her."
Sunny's head snapped up then, her eyes flashing with hurt and disbelief.
"Bullshit," she spat, her voice shaking with barely contained emotion. "You could've done somethin'. You just—let her go. You let her go back to that monster. She deserves better than that, Daryl. She deserved better from all of us."
He flinched at her words, but he didn't back down. He couldn't. Not when he knew it was true.
"I'm not sayin' it was right," he replied, his voice softer now, regret thick in his words. "But we didn't have a damn choice. She chose to go."
Sunny's chest tightened, the sting of his words cutting deeper than she wanted to admit. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but instead, she turned away, her eyes fixed on the floor.
"I don't care about her making the choice, Daryl," she said quietly, her voice breaking as she spoke. "She should've had more choices. She shouldn't have had to make a choice like that at all."
Daryl sighed, running a hand through his hair. He wasn't sure what else to say, not when he knew she wasn't going to forgive him, not yet. She was too hurt, too angry, and he didn't blame her. He felt it too, deep down. But he couldn't make it right. None of them could.
"We all got our demons, Sunny," he said, his tone softer, almost pleading. "And sometimes, we gotta move past it, even when it feels wrong. I know you're hurtin'. Hell, I am too. But we can't fix everything."
Sunny's shoulders shook, her anger bubbling over as she finally turned to face him, her face streaked with tears she didn't even know she'd been holding back.
"You could've tried," she whispered, her voice cracking. "You could've fought for her. For us."
Daryl's jaw clenched, his frustration rising as he took a step forward. His brow furrowed, eyes narrowing, but he was still trying to keep his voice steady.
The last thing he wanted was to lose his temper, but something about the way she said it—something about her tone—struck a nerve. He already felt guilty, he didn't need more reasons to feel that.
"You got so damn close to her," Daryl said, his voice rough, a mix of anger and confusion. "Why the hell did you let yourself get so attached to someone like that? Someone who ain't one of us?"
Sunny froze, her heart pounding in her chest. She felt the sting of his words hit her hard, but she wasn't backing down. She had to say what was on her mind.
"You know why!" She shot back, jumping to her feet, her fists balled at her sides, trembling with frustration. "You know exactly why!"
Daryl stood there for a second, taken aback by the fire in her voice. He stared at her, trying to make sense of what she meant, the words tumbling out before he could stop himself.
"What?" He spat, a flash of disbelief crossing his face. "You think... you think she reminds you of the shit you went through with Negan? Huh? It ain't the same, Sunny!"
The words felt like they'd come out of nowhere, but Daryl couldn't stop the anger rising in him. He didn't get it—he didn't entirely get her attachment to Lydia, why she was so damn protective of someone who had been nothing but trouble since they'd brought her in.
Sunny's chest heaved as she glared at him, her voice sharp, cutting through the tension. "You don't know what it's like," she snapped. "To feel like no one gives a damn about you. To be thrown away like you're nothin'. People hatin' you just 'cause of your parents."
Daryl's face hardened, his hands curling into fists, the edge of his voice betraying how much this conversation was wearing on him. "You're throwin' yourself into her mess. Ya gotta move on. You can't fix her. Couldn't fix the shit that happened to you neither."
The words stung, sharper than he'd intended. But his temper was getting the best of him now, and the fight between them felt like it was spiraling out of control. Sunny's face reddened with anger, her eyes filled with unshed tears, but she wasn't backing down either.
"You don't get it!" She cried, her voice trembling with emotion. "You don't get any of it!"
Daryl stood there, helpless, watching her fall apart, knowing there was nothing he could say to make it better. Not now. Not when she was this mad at him. He had tried to protect them all, but in the end, it felt like he was just failing everyone.
"I'm sorry," he finally said, more for her than for him. "But I can't change it. None of us can."
Sunny wiped her face, trying to steady herself, but the anger still bubbled inside her, and she couldn't let it go, not yet. Not when Lydia was out there, lost again.
"I know you tried, Daryl," she said through clenched teeth, her hands still shaking. "But you didn't try hard enough."
And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving Daryl standing in the silence of the barn, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air.
Sunny's heart was pounding in her chest as she walked out of the barn, the sound of her footsteps echoing in her ears. She knew what needed to be done. No one else understood, but she didn't care. She couldn't just sit back and let Lydia go back to that monster. She had to find her, bring her back, no matter the cost.
Her mind was set.
As she walked down the path, she spotted Henry near the stables, checking the horses. He looked up when he saw her, his face lighting up with concern.
"Sunny, where are you going?" he asked, wiping his hands on his pants.
"I'm goin' after Lydia," Sunny said, her voice firm, her decision final. "I can't just leave her there, Henry. I won't."
Henry hesitated for a moment, then nodded, determination flooding his face. "I'm coming with you."
"Are you sure?" Sunny asked, frowning. "It's dangerous. And you don't have to do this."
But Henry just shook his head. "You're not going alone, Sunny. I'm with you. Always."
Sunny gave him a small, grateful smile, her throat tight with emotion. Before she could say anything more, a voice broke through the quiet.
"I'm coming too."
Sunny froze. She turned, and there, stepping out from the shadows, was Lincoln.
.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
I fear I rushed through this sm but oh well
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