November 10

I spent the morning cleaning the plastic sheeting around the greenhouse with a rag and bucket of water. Even though we only made the greenhouse fairly recently, the sheeting was already smeared with gray and quickly going from translucent to opaque, and if it remains that way, then we all know what's going to happen.

It turns out that wiping ash from the sides of the sheets wasn't as easy as I anticipated since some of the ash had been caking itself into the sides and because the sheets bent every time that I attempted to scrub them. Plus, I didn't want to accidentally knock over any of the cans and trays filled with sproutlings or damage the structure of the greenhouse, so I had to be extra careful and slow. It didn't help that I had to make sure to quickly dry the sheeting because otherwise, if the wind blew ash on the sheets and they were wet, the ash would firmly stick to the plastic.

"It's tough work, isn't it?" Caspian's dad said as I turned back in surprise. I guess I must've been so caught up in wiping down the sheets that I hadn't noticed him climb up a ladder to begin wiping down the panels on the rooftop.

"Yeah, it's pretty hard," I said, about halfway through the process of wiping both sides of the greenhouse.

"I could put a request for the scavenging mission to look out for vinyl cleaners," he said. "Might make things a bit easier."

"That's alright. I can manage," I said. "How are the panels doing?"

"Well, they're managing as best as they can with the ash," he replied. "Still, I believe we've stored enough energy in these past few weeks to keep the lights on in the greenhouse for a couple dozen nights. Don't worry though, I've talked with the Shepards about heading down to the warehouse in a future scavenging mission, so hopefully, for all our sakes, we're going to get more panels."

"Yeah, hopefully..." I said, though I didn't do a good job at feigning enthusiasm since I was worried that he'd given too much information to the Shepards. I mean if things go sour between our two groups then they'd know the location of the most precious resource available and could take it all or even just move there and cut us off.

The conversation lapsed for a bit as I continued wiping down the greenhouse while he began dusting off the ash with what looked like a makeup brush. But then, he said, "I've heard that you and my son have been working on some secret project. It must be something if you guys have been spending so much time together. You want to clue me in, a bit?"

I guess I froze because I knew that I couldn't tell the truth. Caspian mentioned that he was especially vulnerable to grief, which is why Caspian always has to be positive around his dad, and I didn't want to be responsible for sending Caspian's dad on a spiral or whatever he went on. So, instead, I just dodged the question.

"Caspian kinda made me promise to keep it under wraps, you know."

His dad laughed a bit. "Alright. I get it now. Whatever you're doing, it's making Caspian feel better, so I'm not in any position to question it."

There was a bit of an awkward silence as Caspian's dad dragged himself across the roof to clean the second set of panels, but he then turned back to me.

"You know that he's been taking a liking to you?"

"He has?" I asked.

"Well, he hasn't mentioned it directly, but I can tell," he replied. "Every time that he's gone out and done something with you, he's been awfully chatty about everything he did that day. I suppose I may be overreaching a barrier here, but I was wondering what you two talk about."

"Oh, well I don't know," I said. "I mean, sometimes, I help him with stuff, like breaking open nuts or making rope, but I guess we just talk about the usual stuff, like bad jokes and just the world around us in general and about the new members, I guess. I can't really think of super-specific stuff on the top of my head right now, but maybe if you're looking for something specific, I might be able to remember."

"That's alright," Caspian's dad said. "It's just that I wanted to find something that he liked so that we could talk about it more. Since everything that has happened, he's been different, always walking around eggshells around his mom and I. I suppose part of it is my fault, but I want to try to fix things."

I nodded awkwardly. "Yeah. Maybe it'll just take some more time."

"I suppose you're right. I am being a bit too impatient," he said and he muttered something else to himself that I wasn't able to understand.

As our conversation faded into silence, I continued wiping down the greenhouse, making sure that the clear sheeting was as clear as possible, before moving onto the rooftop. I suppose I'm a bit glad that Dad insisted that the rooftop be sloped because it'd be an actual nightmare to clean it if it were flat since there'd be much more ash buildup. But still, to clean the rooftop, I'd have to brush off a ton of ash, and I knew that it'd kick a lot of dust in the air, probably turning me into a coughing mess like Dad.

"I can do it," Dad said to me, climbing over the fence (since the greenhouse had blocked the entrance to the backyard from the backdoor. "I noticed that you were struggling with cleaning the greenhouse, and you should take a break."

"I'm fine," I said. "You should probably step back a bit since your mask isn't taped to your face, and you might breathe in dust."

"I can get tape," Dad replied. "It's not a big deal anyways. My cough is mostly gone."

"You should go get it checked out with Caspian's mom," I replied.

"It doesn't matter," he said. "I don't want to waste any medicine for something that isn't a big deal."

"It is a big deal. You know that's why May went and got the axe from the Hunters because the tiny hatchet that we had made you breathe in so much ash because it was so work intensive to cut wood."

"Well, I've recovered," Dad replied. "And that's why I'm going to clean up the greenhouse roof because it's my job as your dad to make sure that you don't do anything that'll make you sick, and kicking ash into the air will absolutely get dust into your lungs, even with taped masking."

"That's not even related to what I was saying," I said. "What I was trying to say was that May actually wants to do stuff and can do it, but you and Mom need to, like, stop being so over-controlling."

"May is barely fifteen, and she's not even close to being able to make her own decisions," Dad said. "What you two did, we could've handled that better, and if May is planning on doing something reckless again, you need to tell me because I don't want her to get hurt. None of us, and especially her, can afford that."

"She's not, but I'm just saying..." I responded. "Whatever. If you're going to clean the roof, be careful and make sure that you dry immediately after you mop up the ash."

I left in a hurry, going back inside and leaving Dad outside with the greenhouse. It's just that I can't not be annoyed when I'm around Dad, no matter how hard I try, because even though we've forgiven each other on the surface, it was just superficial, and we haven't resolved any of the underlying issues. I guess it's because I haven't done a good job dealing with Charles leaving.

I didn't really want to stay at home, so I, instead, went to the Coopers home since I wanted to see how the clinic they were building was doing. When I got to their house, the first thing that I had noticed was a sign, written somewhat messily on a piece of paper, posted on the door that said that we didn't need to knock to enter and the time of operations, though it's hard to tell the time nowadays. As I entered the house, I heard a light jingle of a bell as I heard Caspian say from another room, "I'll be there in a sec."

While I was debating whether to say "It's Neal" or whether I could just get away with a "I'm here" without mentioning my name, Caspian popped out from a room. "Hey, you're here."

He was totally intentionally mimicking my very unenthused "You're here" some time ago, and I just rolled my eyes. "Hey."

"Are you not feeling well?" he asked.

"Oh, no. I'm doing fine," I said. "It's just that I've never been to your hospital, and I guess I just wanted to check it out."

"Well, you're in luck because it's been a slow day," Caspian replied as he began walking towards the living room area and gestured for me to follow him.

We pushed past a set of curtains that covered the entrance to the living room, likely to provide a bit of privacy and also make sure that people don't get instantly depressed when they see all the sick people. There were around eight or so cots that were lined around the fireplace, making sure that the sick don't get cold at night, and everything looked so clean and washed that I felt guilty for bringing ash in, dust flakes falling from my hair and clothes. Even though it was not particularly bright outside, all of the windows were open and the light filtering through the windows made the room feel more airy and spacious than it was. On the walls, there were tons of posters, some medical that the Coopers must've saved and others being random pop culture ones, and fake flowers were scattered around.

"You like that one?" Caspian said, pointing at the poster that said "I want to believe" underneath a UFO. "No idea where that comes from, but I thought it was cool. Maybe the aliens will save us in the future."

"If only..." I said, looking at the poster a bit closer since I had a feeling that I had recognized that quote before realizing where it came from. "Oh, I just realized, I think this comes from X-Files."

"What's that?" he asked. "Is that some mystery book series?"

"No," I replied. "It's an old TV show. My parents were big fans, so all of us have watched all of the episodes. Well, all except for a black-and-white one because May and I didn't particularly like that when we were younger."

"Damn, that's harsh," he said, taking another look at the poster. "Do you regret not watching it now?"

"I guess, thinking about it, maybe just a little," I replied. "Maybe someday you should check the series out. It's a bit out-there, but I don't think that even it could've predicted what would have happened."

"I doubt that we're going to get TV, of all things back," he said but pointed at the poster. "But I want to believe."

I arched my eyebrows, and he looked at me and gave a little laugh before showing me around the rest of his house. Next to the living room, there was an office area that had been converted into a physician's room for Caspian's mom, and I spotted a weight measurement machine on the ground along with two meter long rulers taped on the wall outside of the room. We then circled back around to the kitchen area, which was fairly deserted, except for a cabinet, which was half-opened, that had a backpack in it.

Finally, we entered the dining space, which was also separated from the living room by a curtain, though I did notice a conveniently placed bookshelf next to the opening, maybe to push in front of the curtains if they are in any danger. Unlike the personalization of the living room, with the splashy posters and plastic flowers, the room was mostly bare. There were just two beds, one larger than the other, separated by a small night-desk that didn't have much in it (though if I was in a hotel, there would be a solid chance that a Bible is hiding in there).

Caspian turned back to me and spread his arms. "My room. I know what you're thinking. 'Your room is so empty.' But to be fair, we haven't had any time to decorate."

I mean, he was right that I was thinking about how empty the room was, but I didn't want him to get the win, so I said, "Doesn't it get pretty cold at night because you guys aren't near the fireplace?"

"We manage by just wrapping ourselves in blankets," he said, demonstrating what he does by wrapping himself like a burrito. I couldn't help but laugh a bit and he joined in. "I look ridiculous, don't I?"

"A little bit, I guess," I said. "So what have you been doing here in the clinic?"

"Nothing much really," he replied. "Mom has just been checking up on most of the older people, making sure that they're not getting sick, so I've been hanging around here just helping people get around and occasionally going to peoples' houses to remind them. Luckily, we haven't had anything serious yet."

"What would be serious?" I asked.

"I'd say the flu or a common cold," he replied. "The worst case scenario would be mass food poisoning. Normally, it wouldn't be a big deal, but we haven't got many antibiotics, only what Mom had stored for emergencies, and we're all so weak. It'd be a complete disaster."

"Well, I'll make sure to wash my hands extra carefully–" I said but was cut off by the sound of footsteps behind me and Cora's voice.

"And make sure that you boil your water correctly and especially be sure to check any food cans for swelling," she replied. "If you get a serious case of botulism, we haven't got any anti-toxin to neutralize it nor respirators, so you need to be extra careful when preparing food."

"Mom, you don't need to depress Neal," Caspian said before looking at me. "You don't need to worry. I'll make sure that you don't get sick."

"Uh, thanks," I replied.

"Do you need any medical attention?" she asked.

"No, I'm doing alright," I said. "Caspian is just showing me around what you guys built. It's looking great."

"We've still got a long way to go to make it a real hospital," Caspian's mom said before she turned to Caspian. "Did you show him around my office area?"

"No Mom," Caspian said. "I know. It's your workspace and most valuable place here, so we aren't supposed to go in there."

"He means that it's the center of my operations," Caspian's mom said to be, and it felt like she was overcorrecting for something that Caspian had said, presumably the part about being the most valuable place. "I've got patient files stored there and would prefer privacy."

But I knew that it wasn't just patient files because, let's be honest, that's the last of our concerns. All the medicine that she must've been carrying around, antibiotics, antifungals, and other valuable medical supplies, must be in her office. I guess even though out of all the groups, we're the closest allies, there's still this lack of trust between us, at least when it comes to our parents.

"Yeah, I get it," I replied.

"Also, tell your mom to be careful about collecting seafood and setting up the nets," she said. "The rainy season is going to begin soon. We don't want all the chemicals from the runoff to end up in our food, which might make people sick. It's why it was better to leave the net up than repair them only for them to be unusable for a month or so if it rains."

"Will do," I said with a thumbs up as she said goodbye to Caspian and left us.

"I'm sorry about that," he said. "Mom can be too intense."

"I get it," I replied. "Anyways, I just remembered that I'm pretty sure you owe me a medical fun fact since I think I've given you too many farming fun facts."

"Come on, I'll show you," he said, hopping off his bed and heading into the kitchen.

He grabbed a stool to reach for the top cabinet and opened it, revealing all the essential oils that I had noticed his mom grabbed when we went scavenging for supplies for the greenhouse. He then pulled an olive-yellow looking one down, and dropped a little bit onto my hands. The aroma immediately hit me, the soothing somewhat minty scent of eucalyptus on my hands. It reminded me of a lotion that Dad used to use when we were younger.

"It turns out that eucalyptus oil is useful for relieving symptoms of asthma and could help with long-term breathing issues," Caspian said. "It doesn't work as well as the actual medicine and can't stop an asthma attack, but given how ashy it is always, it'll be something that we're going to be using in the future a bunch."

"Seems pretty valuable."

"It is," Caspian said. "That's why Mom doesn't want me showing it. She's still sticking to the whole two different niches thing."

"Yeah, that's the same with my parents," I replied. "I got a big lecture from my mom for bringing you around to the greenhouse and letting you check it out."

"I'm sure that Mom is going to give me one of those too once you leave, so please don't leave anytime soon," he said. "I'm just kidding though. I know our parents still don't fully trust each other, but I trust you, you know?"

"Yeah, I trust you too," I replied.

I mostly said that just because it'd be awkward to not reciprocate, but thinking about it more, I guess I do trust him a bit more than I trust Mom and Dad on certain things. It just feels easier to open up to him because he not only understands what I'm going through, but it's like he's inherently less judgemental because he's not comparing me to who I was before Charles left or the version of me before the Mooncrash. It's like it's easier to take the first steps of change with a stranger because they'd never even know you're changing.

But more than that, we need to trust each other because how else are we going to survive? I guess it's so easy to just fall into that pitfall of despair and paranoia, and I'm constantly catching myself being overly pessimistic about the Shepards and the people of the night watch. And even though I'm still skeptical about trusting others, no matter how irrational it seems, maybe this exchange will help build on the currently shaky foundation between our families.

Because I don't want to end up in a universe where Caspian and I end up as enemies, all because our families couldn't muster up the simple words "I trust you."

November 11

This morning I just remembered about the seeds that Mom had gotten without Dad's permission when we went scavenging for greenhouse supplies. When Dad went out in the morning, I went into our storage area, and opened up the sealed plastic tub and spotted the bag filled with miscellaneous seeds. It's been a couple of weeks since we've gone scavenging, and I think it has been enough time for everyone to have forgotten about this piece of contraband, especially with everything that has been going on.

I grabbed a handful of the seeds, stuffing them into a ziploc bag and closing the plastic tub before heading back into the greenhouse to begin sorting them out to sprout them. I was able to figure out the common seeds and beans since Dad used them a bunch when cooking. The greenish beans were mung, the dark purple ones were kidney beans, the tiny beige teardrop looking ones were sesame, the spherical ones were chickpeas while the yellow circular seeds were lentils. There were a couple that I wasn't super sure of but vaguely recognized, one being a brownish colored bean that looked like either a lima bean or soybean or something else. I had no clue about the grass-looking seeds, which were some mystery grain.

Either way, I began preparing them the same way as I would, with a damp paper towel, and while I'd normally place it next to the fireplace, I instead placed it near the boiling pots. If I placed it next to the fireplace, it'd be really warm, and I wouldn't be able to figure out which plants are winter plants that can survive the cold versus the less useful summer plants that probably won't survive the oncoming winter. There'd be some waste, but it'd be better than investing tons of time into the plants only for them to die because they can't handle the cooler weather and minimal sunlight.

I also noticed that the compost bin wasn't particularly warm, only slightly so in the middle. I need to figure out a way to add more organic matter (the compost is all brown and dead right now) to it without adding more seaweed since it might make the compost far too salty. But nothing's really alive, and I doubt that using human manure would be the right move.

After finishing up checking on the garden, I had an unexpected amount of free time since I had nothing scheduled for the rest of the weekend. The car wall was being taken care of today by Mr. Xiao and the Weavers, who were mostly filling the gaps with garbage and recycling bins that they plan on filling with ash, and the Johnsons were scouting out new locations to gather food. Dean and James were checking on the snares that they set up while the Shepards prepped for the scavenging trip. Unfortunately, Caspian was occupied today since his mom was checking up on Mrs. Xiaos baby, so I really had nothing more than I could do.

I decided to pull out the romance books from my shelves, all the ones about guys who liked other guys, and flip to the moment where the crush transformed into something more and maybe figure out what I should do. Obviously, I know that fictional books aren't real life, but I'm completely clueless about how to go forwards with how I feel, and it's the only thing around me resembling a guide.

The first book I read suggested that I just go for it and kiss Caspian, but I'm most definitely not going to do that because there's no consent, and it just doesn't sit right with me. Not like it's going to happen, but even if Caspian tried to kiss me right now, I don't think I'd go for it because I guess it's like kissing someone is, like, to be really open since you're letting someone get really close to you. I guess I know we're not really there yet, and I guess I do value my space a bunch.

The second told me to do, like, casual touches, you know. Messing up his hair a bit or bumping elbows or touching knees when we're sitting down. It seems like a good idea in theory since I've seen it done so effortlessly in the movies, but every time that I imagine doing it, I start laughing a bit because I'd honestly look completely ridiculous. Plus, I don't think it'd mean much since Caspian does it a whole bunch, the casual punches and stuff like that, and it all comes off as very bro-like.

The third book I looked at before deeming this experiment as a failure in progress to be resumed in the future advised casual flirting. It's stuff like "Nice look. I'm loving the new haircut" or "You shouldn't hide that smile," but I mean, doesn't it just feel weird to say that kind of stuff? Like how would you actually integrate that into a conversation naturally, and I guess it feels superficial. Well, not superficial since I guess it's sweet, but I don't know how to describe it. I guess I've never really had people tell me that stuff, so I've never really been good at compliments.

I guess at that point, I also remembered Caspian's boyfriend who had passed away, and how wrong it felt to even think of pursuing a relationship because he hasn't gotten over it. I don't want him, in some hypothetical scenario, for him to open his heart to me only to be disappointed and worse off.

I suppose this is the reason why all the actions that the characters took in the novels rang hollow to me. We all know that they will end up together at the end because ultimately the stories aren't real and follow the same arcs that would be twisted up and mangled in real life. If I mess up, it's not like there's going be another gay guy my age around, much less one that wants to hang around me. It's hard to take chances in times like this. If I've misread things or if they don't work out, I don't want to be the guy that reminds him every day about everything that went wrong.

When I left the room, I got intercepted by May, which was to be expected since all of her scavenging tools were stored in my room.

"Have you got your excuse ready for tomorrow?" May asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I'll tell Mom and Dad that you're going to be out with the Johnsons tomorrow for more foraging, which should cover you for the full day, and hopefully, the Shepards' trip doesn't go overnight."

"It wouldn't," she replied. "We're literally just going to local places, so it's not a big deal. I don't know why everyone is panicking."

"Also, I know that you told Mom and Dad something," she said. "Dad literally confronted me yesterday, asking if I was planning something that might 'put my life in danger.' I obviously told him no, and it's the truth because not doing anything is literally going to put my life in actual danger."

"Well, I thought that he'd change his mind," I replied.

"He isn't going to change his mind for a long time," May replied. "Last time, we got caught because you didn't lie well enough, so you need to, like, do better and actually commit to it and not get caught up in all the morals stuff."

"Sure, whatever," I said. "Do the Shepards know that Mom and Dad don't approve?"

"Probably, but they didn't ask many questions," May said. "It's actually a change from Mom and Dad, where I'd literally be drowned in questions and orders and everything. Obviously, they're terrible people and we're enemies and whatever, but at least, they're not annoying."

I wanted to remind her to be careful around the Shepards, but I stopped myself. I'd already told her that so many times that it'd probably just annoy her further. Plus, I feel like my suspicions are more based on a personal vendetta after being embarrassed earlier this week, and I don't want to mess things up since everything is going so well.

Mom and Dad ended up arriving back home, and we helped them carry back wood logs to the garage, before Dad plopped down on the bed and announced that tonight was board game night. I guess it felt a bit funny because there were a hundred other things that we should be doing to survive, and we were playing board games. But then again, we all had nothing better to do, so we loaded up a game of Scrabble, with May and I teaming up, and began placing down words.

"The Shepards handed me a list of what we want from the scavenging trip," Mom said. "They want us to give it to them in the morning before they leave, so what do we really need?"

"We should be careful," Dad replied. "How do we know they're not using the list to figure out what we currently have since we have no clue about what other people are putting on their lists?"

"I heard from the Coopers that they are putting medicine and solar panel equipment on their list," I said. "I think people are just sticking with their roles for the list."

"So let's put down PVC pipes and clear tarps on the list," Mira responded. "Also, potting soil and chicken manure would be useful and just more seeds. Maybe we could add normal batteries too, just so that we'll be able to run the lights–"

"Woah, we need to slow down," Dad said. "Just think about it for a second. Let's say that we just focus on greenhouse materials, then they might get suspicious that we aren't in urgent need for food. But if we put more survival supplies, then they'll think that we're vulnerable. We just don't have enough information about everybody's situation, and when I've tried asking around, no one is saying much."

"You can't have it both ways," Mira said. "You're creating a damned if we do or don't situation that doesn't exist. It's just overthinking. Let's just put down the greenhouse materials and see what happens."

"I agree with Mira here," Mom added. "No use in throwing away this opportunity to advance out of fear. Saying that, I don't trust the Shepards. The rest of the people in the night watch seem like good people, but I can't help but feel like we were played when the Shepards just forced the move onto us."

"I'm just worried that this is a ploy to gather information," Dad said before turning to me. "Neal, you were the only person in our family to spend a day with the Shepards. Do you have any idea if they're planning something else?"

"I don't know," I said, shrugging my shoulders. Truth be told, even if I did have suspicions that the Shepards were plotting something behind our backs, I probably wouldn't have voiced them because I knew that Dad would blow everything up. We wouldn't be able to salvage this if my suspicions were just based on a misunderstanding or unchecked paranoia.

"Let me handle any night watch business," Mira said. "I know the Shepards, and I do trust them, even if they had suddenly moved the night watch in, because I know that they want to make this work. Right now, we need to focus on getting what we need to keep our community working and worry about the power struggles later."

"It's obvious that they want to keep this working," Dad countered. "But the question is for who? Because, right now, it feels like we're being left out of major decisions."

Mom sighed. "Let's just get the list done. Here's what we're going to do. We'll put the greenhouse supplies above, and on the bottom, we'll add food so that they'll at least not notice that we left it out."

Mira and Dad both huffed at each other, but it's clear that there would be no bridging this gap anytime soon, so they might as well take the best compromise. Plus, it'd be way too risky to reject extra supplies, especially since that would jeopardize our positioning as the caretakers of the greenhouse and future provider of food. We're still nowhere close to having enough space to grow food sustainably.

While everyone went to sleep, Mira and I were the only two people up, and I remembered Caspian's proposal to make our greenhouse the location of the memorial. I know that last time that I did things in secret, it blew up in my face, and while I'm keeping secrets, there's no way that I could enact Caspian's plan sneakily. I guess I just wanted advice, which is why I went up to Mira.

"You remember asking about where we're going to put the memorial?" I asked Mira.

"Yeah," she said. "Where are you guys planning on putting it?"

"Well, Caspian and I talked about it, and we're thinking about making the memorial right here, in the space around the greenhouse," I said, and even though I knew that she tried to hide it underneath a smile, I could hear take a sharp inhale because she didn't think it was a great plan.

"That's going to be a tough sell to Mom and Dad," Mira replied.

"I know," I said. "That's why I'm telling you first. I don't want to spring this on you guys super suddenly, you know. I guess I'm just tired of all the arguments."

"Aren't we all tired of arguing all the time?" Mira asked rhetorically. "I know that it makes sense to put it around the greenhouse. It's warm and green and full of life, but that won't convince them."

"Yeah, I had a feeling that it wouldn't," I replied. "Obviously, there's the whole security concern when it comes to having tons of people come and go from our house, but it won't make us replaceable, you know. Our house will turn into a sort-of community center, and it might bring us all together more, you know, so that whenever people think of someone they've lost, they'll think of the memorial and our house and us. I have no idea if that makes any sense."

"I get it," Mira said. "And I love it."

"I feel like you say that about everything that I say," I said. "I guess I'm just worried that whenever people now see the greenhouse, they'll just think of all the people we've lost. It'll become less of a symbol of hope and more depressing."

"I feel like nowadays, everything hopeful is a bit sad," Mira said. "Looking at the greenhouse itself. At times, it feels a bit sad that the best we can look forward to in the future is just barely avoiding starvation when we never had to worry about food before. Hope always has a bit of sadness underneath it, and having a community center will remind us to honor those we've lost to do better for the rest of us that remain."

"Yeah, that makes sense," I said. "It's a bit insane that we're even talking about a community center though because it's like two weeks ago, we were just debating whether we should accept the Coopers."

"I think we're in a good position since we're even talking about a community center because that means that we all believe that we're going to be staying together in the long term," Mira said. "Or maybe we're the crazy dreamers."

"I swore someone said that yesterday's crazy dreamers are tomorrow's leaders," I said.

She laughed a bit. "I wish..."

I guess the weird thing is that I'm not sure why I'm always projecting hope and encouraging Mira's dreams even when I'm pessimistic about this community merging with the Shepards, no matter how essential it was. How can I, probably still holding a subconscious grudge against the Shepards, think that they're plotting something behind our backs while telling Mira about the possibility that the greenhouse will one day turn into a major community center?

It's more than just not wanting to disappoint her. It's like I'm mixing up what I want to believe and what I want to want to believe, if that makes sense. I want the desire to believe that Mira's dreams of a massive community will come true, but at the same time, I guess I'm not sure whether I've got those aspirations because I truly believe in them or because it's how it's what I should believe.

I suppose that's the most confusing paragraph that I've written today, but I guess it reflects how I feel, a bit rudderless about my hopes.

November 12

There was a great deal of fanfare in the morning as the Shepards left. Unlike our solar panel trip, undertaken with bikes and scooters, the Shepards had hot-wired a beat-up car and utilized the gasoline they've harvested to keep it running. Everyone gathered around the car wall, except for the Johnsons, who had thankfully left early to go gathering in the woods, and May, who had disappeared early in the morning to probably rendezvous with the Shepards in some location a decent distance away.

As the Shepards got into the car, they made a big deal of revving the engine to get everyone riled up and excited. I thought at this rate, they were going to make a speech about the importance of community and how they were going to save us, but fortunately, they weren't that narcissistic. Instead, they got into their car and drove away, leaving behind a trail of dust, and for a second, I had to look away for a bit because it reminded me too much about Charles leaving.

Once the Shepards left, everyone dispersed to return to their routines, except for the Weavers, who filled in for the Shepards in the car wall duties by plugging the gaps with trash and recycling bins and shoveling ash into them to make them as heavy as possible. I'd imagine they'd probably also begin mixing water into the bins, adding more weight to them to make sure that they'd be difficult to move around or knock down.

While I went back to the greenhouse, Dad approached me, probably wondering about where May was, and I prepared my lie.

"Do you know where May is?" Dad asked me, exactly what I had predicted.

"She's with the Johnsons," I replied, and Dad looked a bit confused. "They're the weird couple that does the foraging, so she'll probably be out all day."

"Is she by herself?" Dad asked. "Where are they right now? I don't feel comfortable with her being alone in the woods with some strangers."

"I don't know, and she'll be fine," I said. "Mom literally made me forage with the Johnsons, and it's safe with them. The woods are empty, and if someone attacked, with the ash and trees, she'd be able to disappear pretty quickly and be safe."

"And you're not lying to me?"

"Where else would she be?" I asked.

"The scavenging trip with the Shepards," Dad said. "I haven't seen her since morning, and Mom never signed her up to go scavenging with the Johnsons."

"She's not there," I said. "You can literally go and ask the Shepards when they come back. And also, I don't think it's something that she'd do because she doesn't fully trust the Shepards like the rest of us."

"Well, almost all of us," Dad said with a scoff, probably thinking about Mira. "We'll see about that when they come back, and we need to get a proper schedule."

For such an eventful day on the surface, it was oddly quiet, and I almost felt guilty for not doing much of anything today other than helping Grandma and Grandpa move the boiling pots of water and checking up on the seeds that I'm sprouting. I suppose I was justified in resting because tomorrow is water gathering day for us, but I felt guilty for doing nothing much for the rest of the day.

All I did was open up that gardening book that I was going to lend Caspian to see whether it had a guide for all the plants that we were growing. But I ended up getting distracted by the almost fluorescently bright pictures of flowers and plants on the book's glossy pages as I flipped through each section. The "Fall Recommendation" trees and bushes glowed bright amber and orange, their falling leaves much brighter than reality, and the "Pollinators" section was filled with bursts of vivid blossoms, hyacinths and fuschias and sunflowers under dappled sunlight. There were picturesque photos of carefully curated drought resistant gardens (fitting given that it was a "Western Gardening" book) and just wild meadow gardens, pictured in the section titled "Rewilding Your Garden."

I wonder if the next person who stumbles upon this book in the future will think that this is all just a made-up fantasy. I wonder how long it'll take until I start believing that too.

By the time I got to the end, skimming the glossary section, I realized that there wasn't much specific gardening advice, but there were definitely many interesting tips and tricks to implement, and knowing plant diseases may come in handy. There was also a foraging section, including one dedicated to mushrooms specifically because of how deadly they can be, and I guess I spent the rest of the afternoon trying my best to remember at least the most common edible weeds for the next time I join the Johnsons. I only stopped because Mom knocked on the door to tell me to come and see the Shepards come back from their scavenging trip.

In the evening, the Shepards returned to a lot of commotion and fanfare since pretty much the entire night watch group had gathered around the entrance after hearing the rumble of the engine in the distance. While Mom joined them, albeit not cheering loudly when the Shepards' car began crawling towards our community, Dad stayed on the outside of the group, watching more skeptically.

"What's happening?" May asked all of a sudden, popping in behind all of us, somewhat breathless. "I was out in the woods all day looking for acorns and have literally no idea what's going on."

"You should've told me and your mother that you were going with the Johnsons," Dad said. "We had to ask Neal about where you were."

"Well, I'm sorry," May said with a bit of sass, clearly not sorry. "I guess I now know that letting you know where I am is literally more important than us not starving."

"Those two aren't mutually exclusive," Dad said. "No more randomly disappearing. You need to let us know where you are. It's not like we have phones now."

"Whatever," May muttered and crossed her arms, sulking at the edge of the crowd as their car began rumbling towards the crude car wall.

When the Shepards stepped out of the car that they had hot-wired, they began handing supplies out to everyone, and I only caught glimpses of what other people got since the only light, other than the faint moonlight that's filtering through the ash clouds, was a dully yellow glow from the car. It seems like the Xiaos got some kid toys, and the Caspian's mom got an opaque bag, though from the rattling, it sounded like medicine, and the Weavers got a basket filled with what looked like opaque tarps, but there might've been something underneath them.

"Here are your pipes and tarping," Mr. Shepard said as he handed us plastic tubs of supplies. "We couldn't find compost, but we got a couple of bags of manure. It might be buried under the supplies, but we got a handful of seed packs. Not many batteries though, only around four or so, since we couldn't find many, and are a high demand commodity."

"That's amazing," Mira said. "Thanks."

"Of course," Mrs. Shepard said. "We want the greenhouse to succeed just as much as you want it to. After all, it's our community's responsibility to make sure we're all taken care of."

"What about food?" Dad asked. "We put that on the list."

"We didn't have much luck on that front. Maybe next time, though out of all our families, I'm sure that you guys would be doing the best in that department," she said, and Dad looked a bit panicked at that moment because he had thought that they had found out about our food storage, which was probably the most substantial in the community. "Because of your greenhouse."

Dad let out a little bit of a sigh. "Oh, of course."

As everyone dispersed and began heading back home, even though the frosty air was biting into my skin and my breath was visible under the faint moonlight and glints of light from lanterns, there was this warmth present with everyone chattering. But unlike the other moments of community where I've had this feeling, this time, it was mixed with an undertone of dread. When I turned back, I noticed the Shepards talking with Caspian's dad, their laughs echoing down the street, and I guess I'm wondering if Dad was a bit right.

It's like the Shepards are positioning themselves into the leadership position for our community. I mean, we did hand out fish and seafood that other day, but are people going to remember one day when their stomachs were full over tangible supplies, the medicine, toys, and building material that the Shepherds had found, that they'll see every day? I'd say probably not, and given that the greenhouse is still months away from being able to be harvested, I'd say that Mom and Dad's attempts at being the leaders are in danger. Holding top perch on the city council means nothing if there's little base support.

But that could be me being overly paranoid as always. I've got to stop acting like this.

November 13

Well, that was certainly an eventful community council meeting.

I thought today would be another yesterday, another day with the sheen of excitement that'd end up fairly dull and like usual since the council meeting was just supposed to be about figuring out a more consistent task schedule since we've all just been jumping from task to task somewhat randomly. But all I could say was that chaos erupted this evening after a relatively peaceful but strenuous morning of gathering water.

"What did your family get yesterday?" Caspian asked.

I hesitated for a bit since I've still got lingering anxiety about sharing too much information. But Caspian isn't the Shepards or Dean, and we made a deal to trust each other even though our parents don't really feel the same way, so I said, "We got a lot of greenhouse supplies, like plastic piping and fertilizer and clear tarp. I also got a couple of new seeds, so I might try and grow them."

"Can't wait to see that," Caspian said. "Mom wanted medical supplies, so we got mostly over the counter medicines and a couple of bottles of the harder antibiotics in case of emergencies. We tried but couldn't get any solar supplies for you guys."

"That's alright," I replied.

"When are you guys building the new greenhouse then?" he asked. "With all your new supplies, you guys must be planning a major expansion, right?"

"I don't really know," I said. "I guess we're going to be figuring that out tomorrow because we'd have to tear down a part of the old greenhouse to expand, and if we do that, the plants would probably die, so it's going to be tough."

"Don't worry about it," he replied. "If you need any help, I'm not doing much in the hospital, so just ask me anytime."

"How are things going in the hospital?"

"Things are going good," he replied. "For the conditions we're in, we should be much sicker, but Mom is worried that some type of outbreak is imminent, especially a viral one like the flu. But we should be fine for now."

"What about antivirals or stuff like that?"

"We couldn't get any, just antibiotics and over-the-counter medicines," Caspian replied without hesitation, and I felt a bit guilty that I didn't trust him like he trusted me. "Luckily, we've warm blankets, comfy beds, and plenty of soup to treat you the old fashioned way."

"I guess the most important question is what type of soup though?" I said jokingly.

Caspian waved me off with a chuckle. "I'd normally say that all soup tastes like water, but after eating soup for months, I've become a bit of a soup connoisseur, so I'll update you on that when the time comes."

"It's just that I was hoping for the classic chicken soup," I replied. "Like the olden days, you know?"

"If I had a can of chicken soup, I'd keep it for myself and give you some delicious seaweed soup instead," Caspian said. "No doctor's oath will keep me away from chicken soup."

"Even at my deathbed?"

"I'll give you a spoonful then," Caspian said jokingly before adding a bit more seriously, "But, trust me, I won't let you get there."

Even though I knew that he was not a very experienced doctor, let-alone even anything resembling a doctor, I guess I felt safe. It's nice to have someone tell you that they've got your back because it's like you know that someone actually cares or, at the very least, gives off that impression. I know that this is something that he's probably required to say because he's becoming a doctor and they've got an oath to help as many people as possible, but I guess just the way that he said it made it feel like I mean something more to him than just another patient.

After we finished gathering the water for the week, Mira and May headed inside, probably to collapse onto the couch since today felt longer than usual, while Caspian and I stood outside as he asked, "I'm not sure if you remember, but we talked about it last time. The book–"

"Yeah, I remember," I said. "I can't really lend it out, but if you want to check it out today, that'd be alright."

"Really? That'd be great," he said. "It'd mean a lot to me."

"I'd just have to warn you that it's a long book, like probably two or three textbooks thick," I said.

"That's alright. The only thing we've got a lot of now is time," he replied, but I think both of us know that's a nice story we tell ourselves. Every day, death creeps closer and closer to knocking at our doorsteps, and maybe someday, when we think we've still got a long time left, it'll finally arrive. But luckily, it didn't strike today.

When I was pulling the gardening book out from my bookshelf, I accidentally knocked Charles' letter down, sending it fluttering in front of Caspian's feet. He picked up the letter, reading the messily written "For Neal" on the cover of the envelope, before saying, "You dropped this."

"Yeah, sorry about that," I said, grabbing the envelope from his hand and handing him the massive gardening book. Instead of diving straight into the book like I expected, he put it to the side.

"Who's it from?" he asked, not in an invasive, prying way that'd make me shut down but with empathy, as if he knew the answer to his question even before I responded.

"It's from Charles," I said with a bit of hesitation. "He left this right before he left, right on my doorstep without telling me."

"Not judging you since things might be complicated, but why haven't you opened it yet?" he asked. "I probably would've caved to the temptation as soon as a letter from Gabe arrived on my doorstep. I'm assuming that he asked you to not open the letter until a year or–"

"I mean, he told me to open it in a week, but it's obvious that that has long passed," I replied. "I don't know. It's just different than what you're expecting because we spent an entire day together before he left, so all of the stuff in the letter is stuff that he couldn't say to my face that day and it can only be bad, only things that he's embarrassed of or ashamed of."

"It's not going to be bad, trust me," Caspian said. "If I had spent one last day with– with Gabe, I'd still have so much to say afterwards, things that'd sound better on paper than if I had spoken it out loud. I'd tell him about my favorite memory of us, about everything that I love about him, that no matter how much time passes, and most importantly, that I'll never get converted into a rocky road fan."

That brought a little laugh between the both of us because it had reminded me about Leon's letter to Mira about how he'd always love peanut butter cookies over chocolate chip ones and about how Charles and I never decided whether swords or axes were better. Caspian continued, the smile fading from his face, "But most of all, I'd tell him that even though I'll always love him, because we're never going to see each other again, I'd want him to find someone new that'd see him for the amazing guy he is because I don't want him to live a life trapped in the past."

Even though I get what he's saying, it's just that I've already told that to Charles, or at least some version of that, and he's told me the same. We've got all of those platitudes out on the last day, so there's only going down since no one wanted to ruin those last few moments. But I couldn't directly tell him that he was wrong because I could see him opening up, and I didn't want to shut him down, not when he's that vulnerable.

"Maybe you're right," I said, even though I was unconvinced, and decided to pivot. "But it's just that I know it's not good because otherwise, he wouldn't have asked me to wait a week to open the letter. It's like he wanted to be as far away as possible before I opened it so that there'd be no chance that I'd see him after I read what he wrote in the letter."

"I'd probably have put a time limit too," he said. "I know I'm a hypocrite because I would've opened a letter from Gabe right away, but he forced you to wait, so that you wouldn't open it when it hurts the most. You'd open it when you're able to look at the letter to hold onto everything that he wrote without being bogged down by the memory of losing him."

"Yeah, maybe you're right."

"Yeah, that's the spirit," Caspian said, buying my poor acting for some reason. "Now, let's dive into the world of 'Western Gardening.'"

As we began to flip through the book, there were so many flowers whose names I didn't know that when I stumbled upon a semi-obscure flower whose name I knew, a yellow flower with a burnt purple center and a funny name, I let out a little chuckle. Caspian looked at me, amused but a bit confused, so I had to explain.

"That's the eye of newt plant," I said.

"How do you know?" he asked, giving me an amused look.

"When I was younger, like in elementary school, I had this weird wizarding obsession," I replied. "So I got this, like, picture book that was all witch and wizard lore with spells and stuff, and I guess I remembered this because it was such a weird name."

"Now I want to find the book," he said, moving towards the bookshelf, which sent me into a bit of a panic because there were a ton of those romance books with guys, and I didn't want Caspian to know about it, especially not now.

"My mom donated it a while back during one of her cleaning sessions unfortunately," I blurted out a bit too fast.

He turned to look back at me, his back facing the bookshelf and away from the book, and I let out a bit of a sigh. "You still owe me a story."

"Wasn't this enough of a story?"

"Not really, but I'd let it slide if you'd tell me what magic the eye of the newt was used for," Caspian said. "Did it turn people into frogs or something?"

"I think it was for a love potion," I replied. "Or a death one. I'm not particularly sure to be honest, but I think it's safe to say that we're not going to be using eye of newt anytime soon."

"I'd definitely steer away from it too," he said. "Why would I need a love potion when no one can resist my charm and personality? Not to mention, these biceps."

He flexed his arms, and I was fortunate that the lighting in the room was terrible because I'm pretty sure that my rosy cheeks betrayed my sarcastic eye-roll. Luckily, I also could blame it on the cold since my room was unheated, and after that we went back to flipping through the gardening book, attempting to figure out his boyfriend's favorite flower.

The hours flew by as we skimmed through around half of the book, checking for bright yellows and goldenrods and ambers bursting from the pages. We scrolled through pictures of cheery sunflowers and star-shaped daffodils and ornate patterning of marigold flower petals, layered delicately. There were zinnias and dahlias and begonias and a whole bunch whose names I can't remember, though one of note for its weird name is the black-eyed susan. It feels a bit weird for a flower to be named after a person's name.

But Caspian shook his head at every flower that I showed him, and when May barged into the room, he decided to take a break for today as she gave us a weird look. As soon as I waved goodbye to Caspian, May closed the door.

"What happened with the Shepards?" I asked May in a soft voice, making sure that Mom and Dad weren't around. "Where'd you guys go, and how'd you get all this stuff?"

"Can you, like, slow down with the questions?" she said. "We literally went everywhere, like to all the plazas and stuff, and because we weren't on a stupid bike, we could actually get so much stuff. And by the way, I found the seeds and the clear tarp, so you should be thanking me."

"Thanks," I deadpanned, mock clapping for her.

"You're welcome," she said. "Anyways, we basically went down everyone's list, so, like, the Johnsons wanted jars and stuff, salt and baking soda, and tarps, and the Weavers wanted, like, giant plastic tubs and tools. Formula, obviously for the Xiaos but like there was none, and I think Dean and that gun guy–"

"James."

"Yeah, whatever. You made me lose my train of thought. Oh, yeah, lots of twine and expensive badminton balls, like the ones with feathers, and a bunch of art supplies."

"What about Caspian's family?" I asked.

"Umm, just like a couple of bottles from the back counter of the pharmacy, and a ton of just random boxes of stuff along with, like, mineral oil, whatever that is, and tons of tampons since literally all the pads were taken," May said. "I think there were some wires and magnets and just random metal and wood things. I don't really know about that stuff."

"Okay," I said. "Did the Shepards get anything for themselves?"

"Way to ruin my big reveal." she said. "Weirdly enough, we made a stop at the pet store, and I thought it was for medicine since they came out with a bunch of pill boxes, but they also brought out a couple of bags filled with dog food and, like, dog biscuits and stuff like that. Also, they got a lot of water tanks and, like so much fish food. I don't know what that's all about since it's all pretty weird."

"They might be food hogging," I replied. "I don't know about the fish tanks, aquaponics maybe, but I don't know if they're trying to set up their own system or how they'd even get freshwater fish or if they are going to donate it to us."

"I don't know, but, like, we could totally ask for fish tanks the next time they go out," May said. "It's in, like, two weeks or something, so you better prepare your new excuse since I heard that Dad was going to ask for a more set task schedule."

"Yeah, I'll figure it out," I said with a sigh as she left me alone. I guess at that moment, I just felt a pit of dread form in my stomach, and that sensation lingered all the way until everyone filed into our house, crowding up the area that used to be the dining room. By then, being around all those people, it didn't disappear but erupted, and I just knew that something bad was going to happen.

The beginning of the community council meeting was initially fairly peaceful and proceeded as we had expected. Essentially, what happened was that we got together and clarified what the tasks we needed to do were and who was manning each task. All that information ended up being written down onto a spreadsheet that would be posted in the Coopers' home, but here's the gist.

Essentially, there will be several task groups formed. The Johnsons will always head up the foraging group, the Shepards will always be building the car wall, and Caspian's mom will always be in the hospital. Unless we're on our wood and water gathering day, the rest of us, except for Mrs. Xiao, will be just generic workers that will constantly be rotated around the groups to keep helping out. It's a fairly flexible model, so if more positions open, like with Mom's net, we can adjust fairly easily, and it'll be easy to move people around to the next position. Luckily, I was able to petition for Mom to not sign me up with the car wall, especially since she's suspicious of the Shepards, so that's at least one stress off me.

Unfortunately, it's at this point that things began to fall apart when the Mrs. Weaver stood up and said, "I'd hate to be a burden, but my husband and I have tried our best to stretch out our food supplies for as long as possible, but we've got only a week's worth of supplies left before we run out."

"What we're asking is that if anyone's got spare food, we'd gladly accept anything," Mr. Weaver said. "We can't be a community if we don't fully support each other."

"Of course," Mrs. Shepard replied before turning to our family. "I know it's a lot of ask from you guys, but seeing as though my family's food supplies are keeping the rest of our original group afloat, I was wondering if you guys would pitch in to contribute, especially since you've got first pickings to the greenhouse."

I could see that Dad was about to say something, but Mom spoke up first, "Of course we would, but we've got growing teens that we need to feed, and we don't want them to go hungry in times like this."

"Have you got less than a month's supply left?" she asked point blank directly towards us.

I think that moment was when we realized that we had gotten trapped. We couldn't say that we've got more than a month's supply of food because then we'd look like the villains who are denying food to starving members and that wouldn't earn us any friends. There was only one good answer to that question, and I had a sneaking suspicion that that was not an accident.

"Yes," Mom said. "I told you. We're just managing right now."

"I completely understand," Mrs. Shepard said before turning to the rest of the group. "This is why I'm proposing that we come clean and merge all our food supplies and form a large food pantry. Considering how we're a community, it's only fair that we all share food so that we all can make it far enough to reap the rewards of our partnership. After all, it'd be unfair for a family that happened to have more food benefit from the hard work we all put in."

Dad stood up, a bit annoyed and angry. "How will food distribution work? Where will the pantry be located? Are we going to create a food meal schedule? Are we distributing food based on calories? Are–"

"These are all valid questions, and I'm glad that you're interested in our proposal," Mrs. Shepard said, smiling a bit. "But right now, I think it'd be a good time to vote on the idea, and we can work out the details later."

"It's just that, it seems very complicated, and we're being too hasty," Dad said. "We need to take this slow."

"Considering how a member of our community is at immediate risk of starvation, we need to dream big and act now, even if there are imperfections," she replied. "Of course, you'd be able to register your objections by vetoing the proposal if you don't feel like we've addressed your concerns."

"Just one question to answer: How will we be making sure that everyone's putting all their food in the pantry?"

"House-searching," Mr. Shepard said. "We'll be checking your house, and you'll be free to check everyone else's homes if that makes you comfortable."

We all went pale because this incident had snowballed into a catastrophe for our family. If we get caught hiding food around the house, we'd get crucified by the community since we'd seem selfish. And it also could reveal that their group has so little food that there'd be nothing to lose from a house search, meaning that any food in the pantry would disappear rapidly.

"Alright, I think that's enough discussion," Mrs. Shepard said. "I, for one, am in favor of this proposal."

Mr. Shepard soon followed, and in quick succession, the Weavers and Dean voted in favor, all of them easily united behind this idea. After a brief lull, the Johnsons joined them, and even though the Xiaos gave our family a sympathetic glance, they ultimately voted in favor. In the end, it left the Coopers and our family as the last two holdouts to the plan, and since James wasn't present in the council meeting, if our two families objected, with our veto pen, we'd be able to prevent this plan.

However, doing that would doom any chance of our two groups becoming a community because we'd widen the already massive rift between us. Not to mention the fact that not helping the starving when we've got spare food, albeit very little, just feels morally wrong, not that morals matter much anymore. Plus, if we reject the proposal, then everyone would know that we've got tons of available food, in relative terms, and with their guns, we'd be thrown out.

I think it's the gun factor, with maybe a bit of hope that we'd be able to make community work, that led Mom to say, "I'm in favor."

"Same here," Mira added, and Dad soon but reluctantly followed.

Caspian's parents, who were nervously eyeing us, looking for directions about how to vote for this case since the safety of our food supply is directly connected to their survival, both voted with Mom.

"It's lovely how our first major decision by our council is unanimous," Mrs. Shepard. "I love democracy at work here."

But Dad gave a little scoff because it wasn't so much democracy as it was an order backed up with the hypothetical threat of violence. Even if we were being overly paranoid and distrustful, the potential for guns to get involved made it far too risky to vote against the measure that had received such strong backing from the night watch.

As everyone left our home after this major vote, I could even see that Caspian's mom, who was always controlled if a tad aggressive, was a bit rattled by the turn of tables that just happened in front of eyes. But she's right to be a bit scared. If the night watch group and the Shepards are not actually serious about the community, we'd be in deep trouble.

The creation of a food pantry would never be proposed unless the average food per person left in the night watch is less than our side. Maybe that's why they joined us, out of desperation since they're rapidly running out of food and had to pull this stunt. It could explain why they were so organized in voting for it since it could've been all pre-planned out, but the more rational explanation is that the rest of the night watch fell into place because they'd known each other longer than they'd known us.

But still, I don't think that anyone was opting for the explanation that felt "more rational." All of us were pretty glum and exhausted, especially since we had to gather water and wood all day. The confidence that Mom and Dad and Mira had going into the city council meeting had been decimated. While Mom and Dad were brushing their teeth, I overheard a bit of their conversation as Mom paced up and down the hallway.

"Why is this so hard?" Mom asked. "We shouldn't be trying to cheat each other to try to get ahead."

I thought that Dad was going to give her a big "I told you so" or something along those lines since he's always insisted that isolation would be the safest choice for us. But instead, he said, "We'll figure out how to outmaneuver them. In the meantime, you go out there, and you keep trying to get us more allies, and I'll play hardball with them."

"We won't get anywhere playing hardball," Mom replied. "But I've got some ideas about how to get around the house searches, even though they're risky. I still need more time though."

And probably a good night's sleep because both her and Dad were out as soon as they hit the bed, leaving Mira and I as the last people awake. While I was writing, I noticed that Mira, like Mom, was pacing around the living room, and only after May yelled at her for being so loud, Mira stopped and came up to me, sighing and rubbing her fingers against her forehead as she looked downwards. It almost seemed like she was going to cry, so I sat a bit closer.

"That was a massive failure," Mira said. "I wonder if Dad was right, and we were just being played. I mean, I was the last person to join, so it makes sense for them to turn on the newest member–"

"Don't think like that," I said, even though I was thinking like that. "We don't really know what they were thinking because it could've been just earnest for all we know. Basically all communities in all the apocalypse books I've read have a collective food pantry, so it's not unusual to get it established that quickly."

"Maybe..." she said. "Be honest, do you think I'm too trusting?"

"I think it's good to have trust."

"That was a clever dodge," Mira said with a bit of a smile. "Leon taught me how to recognize one. But seriously?"

"I mean, I don't really know since I feel like that's something you figure out in hindsight," I replied. "I guess you just need to put yourself out there, like more than usual, during the council meetings since right now, the Shepards are running the whole thing and pushing it in a direction that might not follow the direction of your dream, you know?"

"Our dream," Mira said.

"Exactly, but right now, no one knows about it really, and I think you just need to sell your idea door-by-door."

"It's like girl scouts but on steroids," Mira replied. "Instead of pitching tasty cookies, I've got to pitch a massive idea during a time when people would rather think small than big."

"Well, life would be too easy if pitching ideas was as easy as cookies," I said. "You've got this."

I guess the thing is that even though my fears came true, I'm just not feeling the overwhelming despair that you'd expect, that everything is doomed and our family is going to quickly starve and die from hypothermia. If anything, I do feel this odd sense of hope. Maybe it's because every time I tell Mira to keep her spirits up I start believing myself or maybe it's because there's this impending send of gratification as we "beat" the Shepards at their own game.

Or maybe it's just been there all along.

What I'm realizing is that I've been overthinking things because under the layer of wants and wants to wants and all of that nonsense, there's always just been this quiet hope that's stuck on a permanent smolder. It's like I've lost too many people to just give up, and I can't disappoint all the people that have left, especially Charles, if our dream fails. I don't want him to return sometime in the future, when the volcanoes calm down and the skies turn clear again, only to find my journals scattered across the floor.

And more just not wanting to disappoint, I guess I've realized that I've been wanting more lately: a bigger greenhouse, a unified community, a chance at even the faintest smidge of love. Some of them are just so out there that it'd be impossible to believe in them without just the faintest glimmer of hope.

Maybe I'm the crazy dreamer here.