The next morning, all of the kids were gathered around a small table, coloring in their activity books- except for Rosie. Rosie was sitting by the quarry and coloring in her dinosaurs all by herself. She was at the table with the other kids for a little bit, sitting silently, but Carl kept asking her questions. She didn't feel like talking so she just left to go color in peace.

While Rosie was coloring, Shane was watching from up on the hill, standing next to Lori with his arms crossed. They were both concerned.

"I'll bring her something to eat," Shane tried.

Lori gave him a pitiful look. "She doesn't want to talk to anyone. I already tried," Lori said.

"Well, she's gotta eat somethin'," Shane said, grabbing a bowl of dried cereal to bring to Rosie, despite Lori warning him not to. He started walking down the hill until he reached where Rosie was sitting, by the water. She looked at him and then back at her coloring book, not saying anything. She did not want to talk to Deputy Dipshit. He held the bowl of cereal out in front of her. "Breakfast," was all he said.

After giving Shane a dirty look, Rosie took the bowl and started munching on the cereal. Shane still had not convinced her to like him even in the slightest bit. She hated him because, one, he was a cop, two, he got her in trouble with her dad when she punched Carl, three, he forced her to leave her dad dead in the woods, and four, he always thought he was the big man in charge.

Shane stayed there with her, watching her eat. She glanced up at him with a judgmental look. "You just gon' keep starin' at me or what?" she asked, glaring at him.

He looked away with a small laugh. "You alright? Down here by yourself?" he asked her.

"Yes," Rosie said, poking at her cereal. Her face went back to it's normal, serious look and Shane sighed.

"I'm worried about you," Shane admitted, studying her face and hoping to catch some glimpse of emotion out of her. She didn't show any other emotion aside from annoyed.

"Don't gotta be," was all Rosie said in response. She didn't understand why everyone was so worried. They barely knew her. Why weren't they just leaving her alone like they did before?

Shane stared at her, his brows furrowed with concern.

"An' stop starin' at me! Jesus Christ!" Rosie snapped, using the phrase she'd heard Daryl say when he was annoyed.

She tossed the bowl back into his lap and stood up, quickly walking off with her coloring book and crayons. Shane watched her stomp off, confused and a little annoyed.

In his eyes, he was only trying to help. In Rosie's eyes, he was just being nosy.

Rosie went back to the car seat couch and grabbed her backpack before heading off to the woods. She needed more rocks for her slingshot, anyway.

When she got far enough into the woods, she stopped and put her bag down. She dug through the bag and pulled out her new crocodile shirt. She took off the blood-soaked Black Sabbath shirt she had been wearing since she got there and switched it with her new shirt.

Once she was done switching out her shirt, she sat down on a log. She picked at a small stick she had found, and began mindlessly whittling away at it with her pocket knife. She was scared she'd lost the knife in Atlanta the other day, but it was in her bag when Daryl gave it to her at the vatos' base.

As she was carving the end of the stick, her finger suddenly started stinging. She lifted it up to her eyes and pinched at where it stung, noticing a small piece of wood stuck under the skin. She picked at it and tried to pull it out, but it was really lodged under her skin. More of a sliver than a splinter, really.

She picked at it and picked at it, growing frustrated. Finally, she almost got it, but then it slipped back as if no progress was made at all. She kicked at the ground and growled in frustration. She put her hand down in the ground next to her, taking a break, when she felt cold metal beneath her finger tips. Her pocket knife. She used the pocket knife and began poking at the sliver, hoping it'd help her break the small piece of wood free.

The knife wasn't even helping. She felt like she had been there for hours trying to get that splinter out, but it was more like fifteen minutes. Every time she thought she had it, she didn't. She couldn't even tell which side it poked in from!

A twig snapped.

Rosie's head shot up and she gripped her knife tightly in her hands. Her eyes searched for the source of the sound, assuming it was a walker, but when she spun around, it was just a normal person. Daryl.

She resisted rolling her eyes and went back to digging into her skin. If she didn't get that sliver out, she thought she might just explode. And why couldn't these people just leave her alone?

"The hell you doin' out here by yourself?" Daryl asked her.

"Runnin' from the cops," Rosie said, not looking away from her hand.

Daryl stared at her hand for a second, trying to figure out why the hell she was poking her finger with the tip of her knife. "Cut it out. Yer gonna cut yourself," he said, stepping forward and swiping the knife out of her hand.

Rosie glared at him and reached for the knife, but he shook his head at her. "I need that," she said.

"What're you doin' with it?" he asked in an accusatory tone. He wasn't going to give it back to her if she was gonna use it for something stupid.

"Splinter," Rosie said. She held out her finger and pointed to the splinter with her other hand.

"Lemme see," Daryl said. He reached out to grab her hand and inspect it, but Rosie quickly pulled her hand away and held it close to her chest. "I ain't gonna do nothin', jus' wanna see," Daryl told her.

Rosie bit her lip and looked away as she stuck her hand out again. She flinched when Daryl gently grabbed her hand to look, but didn't pull away this time. She didn't look back until he let go of her hand and placed her knife on the log next to her.

"That knife ain't gonna work, dumbass. Need somethin' smaller, like a needle or somethin'," he said.

"What about a pin?" Rosie asked, thinking about her backpack. Daryl nodded and grunted, which Rosie guessed meant that a pin would in fact work. She reached for her backpack and took off the ladybug pin she had on the front of it. She had taken it from the department store in Atlanta.

Poking the needle into her skin a little too deep, it immediately drew blood. "Ow," she hissed, sucking on her finger to try and stop it from stinging. She was about to start again, but kept stopping. Her hands were too shaky. Why couldn't she just stay still? She sighed and squeezed her eyes shut before speaking. "Can... can you do it?" she asked, embarrassed.

Daryl stared at her for a second before sighing in annoyance. "Yeah, whatever," he huffed out. He sat down on the log next to her and took the pin from her hand. Rosie held the hand with the splinter out to him and looked away, staring at a pile of sticks and leaves on the ground.

As Daryl dug out the splinter, he tried to be gentle and not poke her too many times, but it was inevitable if she wanted the splinter out. Each time he moved the pin, Rosie flinched or shook a little, which was annoying, but he understood. He remembered a time he got a splinter when he was young. His mom had to use a needle to get it out because tweezers just weren't getting the job done.

"Stop movin', will ya?" Daryl said. He almost had it.

"Ain't my fault you keep stabbin' me," Rosie muttered back.

Daryl stopped and looked at her, his eyebrows raised. "Ya want this splinter out or not?" he said. Rosie furrowed her eyebrows and looked away again with a sigh. After a few more minutes, the splinter was finally gone. "There. Done," Daryl said, tossing the ladybug pin into her lap.

"Thanks," Rosie mumbled quietly. Daryl just nodded and stood back up.

"Come on. Deputy Dipshit's lookin' for ya," he said, swinging his crossbow over his shoulder.

Rosie groaned and rolled her eyes as she put her stuff back in her bag. "'Course he is. What's he want? I a'ready told him ta leave me alone."

"We're leavin'," Daryl told her as they began their walk back to camp.

"Leavin' to where?" Rosie asked. She hadn't heard what the final decision was.

"CDC. Rick thinks they'll have some sorta cure," Daryl said. It was obvious from his tone that he didn't think the CDC would have anything.

"Do you think they'll have somethin'?" Rosie asked once she caught up to him. She didn't care what the pussy ass cop thought.

"I don't know. But I know we oughta leave this camp. Too close to the city. Shoulda left days ago," Daryl said. Rosie nodded in agreement. It would've been smart to leave the day they found her dad chewed up by walkers in the woods.

When they returned to camp, everyone was gathered around the RV, packing up their cars. Shane gave Rosie a little wave, and she just gave a small, barely noticeable nod and stayed a few feet away from everyone else. Shane didn't accept that, though. He came walking over and Rosie internally groaned. Why the hell couldn't he just leave her alone? What was his problem?

"Hey, kiddo," Shane said, putting his hands on his hips. He sounded serious but not angry. "You know, you can't do that again; running off. It's not safe."

"Okay," Rosie said, not looking him in the eyes. What she really wanted to say was, I can take care of myself. I did it when my dad was here, I can do it now. But she didn't say that.

"Alright, good. Got all your stuff?" Shane asked. Rosie nodded and Shane furrowed his eyebrows, looking past her to her dad's tent, which was still up. "What about that?" he asked, pointing at it.

Rosie turned to see what he was pointing at. "Not takin' it," she said, as if it were obvious.

"Why?"

"Hate it."

With a confused sigh, Shane nodded. He wanted to know more, but Rosie clearly wasn't going to tell him. So he turned to the rest of the group, walking up next to Rick. "Everybody listen up. Those of you with C.B.'s, we're gonna be on channel 40. Let's keep the chatter down, ok? Now, you got a problem, don't have a C.B., can't get a signal or anything at all, you're gonna hit your horn one time. That'll stop the caravan. Any questions?"

Morales stepped forward. "We're, uh..." he looked around at the group, seeming a little nervous, "we're not going." He stood with Miranda and her two kids, who Rosie had saved the night before. Shane and Rick stared at him, but didn't say a thing.

"We have family in Birmingham," Miranda spoke. Her daughter leaned up against her, squeezing her doll tight. "We want to be with our people."

Shane sighed, raising his eyebrows before speaking. "You go on your own, you won't have anyone to watch your back."

"We'll take the chance," Morales said. "I gotta do what's best for my family." Rosie watched as Eliza hid her face in her mother's arm. It didn't seem like the girl wanted to go. She wondered how that would be best for his family if it was dangerous and they didn't even want to go. She didn't say anything about it. She didn't know them. It wasn't her business.

"You sure?" Rick asked.

"We talked about it," Morales said, looking towards his wife. "We're sure."

"Alright," Rick said. Rosie watched as he began digging through the gun bag. He got out a gun and a box of bullets before bringing them over to the man.

"Box is half full," Shane said, looking at the ammo box.

They're really just going to leave with one gun and half a box of ammo?

Everyone in the group- aside from Daryl, who scoffed and turned away- seemed sad as they said their goodbyes to the family. Rosie stayed off to the side, not speaking. She was surprised when Miranda came up to her and put her hands on her shoulders.

"Thank you. You saved me and my children. I wish you well," Miranda said. She gave Rosie a genuine smile before turning to leave.

"Come on. Let's go. Let's move out," Shane said after the family left. Everyone started making their way to a car or truck. Rosie didn't know where to go. She didn't want to be stuck in a vehicle with any of these people. She'd rather just stay behind.

"Rosie!" Carl called out as he came bounding over to her. "I'm riding with Sophia. You should come too," he said. Rosie barely even knew Sophia, Carl asked too many questions, and she knew for a fact she wasn't gonna ride with the pussy ass cop, so she shook her head. Carl sighed, but nodded in understanding before running back to the car he was riding in.

Shane suddenly appeared behind Rosie, placing a hand on her shoulder. She jumped forward, spinning around to glare at him. "Come on," Shane said, nodding towards the Jeep he was riding in, "we're going. You can ride with me."

"I don't wanna ride with you," Rosie said, clearly annoyed with the whole situation. What she really wanted to say was, I'd rather eat shit than ride with you.

"Come on, kiddo," Shane tried, "Who else are you gonna ride with? RV's got Jim, and the other cars are full."

"I ain't sittin' in a car with you for hours on end," Rosie said, looking down at her boots and furrowing her eyebrows.

Shane huffed and ran a hand through his hair, looking away and thinking. How was he going to convince her to ride with him? He didn't want to force her. She already hated him enough, he couldn't pick her up and strap her into the seat against her will.

"She can ride with us. If we can fit some stuff into another car, we can clear out a seat for her," T-Dog offered.

"You left Merle on the roof," Rosie muttered, shaking her head. She wished they'd just let her run away like she originally planned. She was just getting in the way, anyway.

"I think Daryl has room in his truck," Rick suddenly said, stepping closer. Shane, Rick, and Lori all turned to look at Daryl expectantly.

He was just leaning against his truck, trying to stay out of it. He glared at Rick for pushing him into the situation.

"Can she ride with you, Daryl?" Rick asked. He wasn't too keen on having the girl ride with Daryl, considering the amount of times he had almost killed people from the camp, but he knew he wouldn't hurt a kid. And after all, Daryl was the only one Rosie seemed to be willing to listen to, from what Rick saw in Atlanta.

Daryl scoffed and looked away. "I ain't good with kids, man," he said.

Everyone kept staring at him with expectant and hopeful faces. He looked at Rosie. She was standing with her head looking down at her shoes. She had her arms crossed and she was repeatedly kicking her right foot into the side of her left foot. He looked back over at the group.

They were still staring.

So he rolled his eyes and muttered out, "Fine. Whatever."

"Alright, kiddo," Shane said, kneeling down in front of Rosie to try and get her to look at him. She didn't. "You have a few options. You can ride with me, you can ride with T-Dog and Andrea, or you can ride with Daryl. Or else we're leavin' you behind," he told her, knowing damn well that there was no way they were going to leave the girl behind.

Without a word, Rosie sighed and walked over to the passenger side of Daryl's truck. She swung the door open angrily and threw her backpack inside before climbing in herself, Daryl getting in and starting the truck right after.