𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐎 (𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐔𝐒) *editing*

𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐬🌞

Rewritten: January-May 2025

Three weeks later

"When's Marlene getting back?"

Maeve, lost in her own thoughts, shifted her gaze to the right. Her sister, smaller in stature, adjusted her position to face her directly.

Ellie's youthful features showed signs of exhaustion, but her energy remained plenty.

She squirmed, feeling a twinge of annoyance at her fourteen-year-old sibling, mentally rolling her eyes at the repeated question. This was the third in just an hour since Marlene had left them in that shabby cafe. Dust coated the display counter, the register, the tables, and pretty much everything else around them.

Sunlight filtered through what would've been the cafe windows, now boarded up, making the room uncomfortably small.

"I don't know," Maeve shot back, earning a sharp look from Ellie. "Probably around the same time you started asking," she added with a sigh, "It's only been an hour, E."

"Yeah, a freaking hour. She could be in trouble," Ellie said, pulling out her switchblade and absentmindedly polishing it on her right sleeve. "Maybe we should—"

"She told us to stay put," Maeve snapped, her gaze darting to her sister. "And don't even think about running off. It's too dangerous."

"But I'm so bored!" Ellie complained, dramatically tossing her head back.

It was boring, yes. Maeve couldn't deny that she longed for more exciting that drawing imaginary shapes on her jeans or fiddling with Jordan's pendant and her bracelet.

"Well, I do have this comic I brought along if you want to read it—" Maeve started to reach for her backpack.

"No thanks," Ellie declined.

"What?! But you're such a nerd! Don't you like stuff like comic books?" Maeve gaped at her, dropping her bag. "You're so weird."

"Don't hate me cuz you ain't me~" Ellie replied with a smug grin.

"Don't flatter yourself, squirt," Maeve shot back with a haughty smirk, puffing out her chest. "Why would I hate someone who has less than me?"

She knew that jab was a low blow. After all, she was the one who had the curves in the family. She liked to think she took after their mom. Maeve kept assuring Ellie that puberty would eventually work its magic, but Ellie always brushed her off. It was clear that period talks and the talk made Ellie uncomfortable. Since her sister already understood how the female body worked, it lightened Maeve's load a bit.

"Ouch," Ellie pretended to be hit, dramatically clutching her chest and falling against the wall. "I'm hurt! I'm bleeding out!"

"You're such a dork," Maeve chuckled, pulling her legs up onto the counter, wrapping her arms around them, and resting her chin on her knees.

"And you're a bitch."

"It wouldn't be fun if I wasn't," she grinned before settling down a little. "You know, this is actually a good thing."

Ellie eyed her with curiosity as she folded her switchblade and tucked it away. "What do you mean?"

"Well, for starters, everything is about to change."

"We don't know that."

"Don't we?" She envisioned a world free from the Cordyceps virus, devoid of tyrannic soldiers and Fireflies.

"Mae," the younger girl said, her expression turning solemn. "A cure won't bring Riley back."

"I know," Maeve replied, her eyes dropping in disappointment. "But isn't it nice to hold onto hope? What else do I have left after everything that's happened?"