Within

thirty nine

Ariana's grip on the knife tightened as she crept the door, her breath catching in her throat. The voice outside was calm but held a tension that set her on edge.

"Ariana, it's Sherry. Dwight sent me."

But something wasn't right. The tone wasn't familiar, and the words felt off. She took a step closer, peeking out of the narrow window. Two figures stood on the porch, neither of them was Sherry. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut.

Michonne. Carol.

Panic surged through her, and her heart raced. She stepped back from the door, her back pressed against the wall, gripping the knife like a lifeline.

Another knock came, louder this time, followed by Michonne's unmistakable voice, sharp and controlled. "Ariana, open the door now. We're not here to play games."

Ariana's stomach churned. She had been running from them, from all of them. She wasn't ready to face Michonne or Carol, wasn't ready to explain herself.

The memories of Negan's words, his manipulation, still clung to her like a sickness. But so did the memories of her time with him, the warmth she had convinced herself was real.

"Ariana!" Carol's voice now, hard and demanding.
"We don't have time for this. Open the door."

They weren't going to leave. She knew that. Ariana swallowed hard, her hand trembling as she reached for the doorknob. What would they say? What would they do? She couldn't hide forever. Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the door and pulled it open, her chest tight with dread.

Michonne stood in front of her, arms crossed, her face set in an expression that was equal parts anger and disbelief. Carol stood just behind her, eyes cold, cutting right through Ariana's defenses. The tension was thick, almost suffocating.

"You've got some nerve." Michonne said, her voice low but furious, stepping forward and forcing Ariana back into the house. "Leaving Alexandria and trotting along after Negan like that. When I BEGGED you to stay."

Ariana flinched, her grip on the knife loosening until it fell to the floor with a dull thud. "I... I didn't..."

"You didn't what?" Michonne snapped, her eyes burning with rage. "You didn't think we'd come looking for you? You didn't think we'd care?"

Carol's gaze bore into her, harsh and unyielding.

"We knew something was wrong. But this?" Her voice was sharp, laced with disappointment. "Dwight told us where you were, Ariana. And do you know what else we heard?"

Ariana's blood ran cold. She knew where this was going.

Michonne's jaw clenched, her voice seething. "You've fallen for Negan. You've been sleeping in his bed. I heard you've even had sex with him. What is fucking wrong with you?!"

Ariana took a step back, the accusation hitting her like a slap. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come. How could she explain it? How could she make them understand something she barely understood herself?

Carol stepped closer, her voice colder now. "You fell for him, didn't you? After everything he did to us, to our people. To Glenn and Abraham." She practically spat their names, and Ariana flinched at the reminder.

Ariana's throat tightened, guilt clawing at her chest. "It wasn't... it wasn't like that."

Michonne's eyes narrowed, her voice harsh and unforgiving. "Then what the hell was it like, Ariana? You ran off with Negan, the man who terrorises us, who murdered people we loved, and you... what? You trusted him? Loved him?"