The Edge of Survival

Chapter Four

The routine hadn't changed much. Every morning, Nora and Daryl would head out into the woods. Daryl was as silent as ever, but Nora had grown comfortable filling the gaps with her own chatter.

They weren't close in the way she might've been with someone like Glenn or Maggie, but Nora thought of them as friends now, even if Daryl probably didn't see it that way. He never acted any different—he was still distant, still gruff, still quick to avoid anything that felt too personal. But there was something different, something softer beneath his walls that made Nora feel like they had a connection.

Nora sat on the ground beside a patch of herbs, showing Daryl how to identify them. She knew he was watching, even if he wasn't acting like it.

"My birthday's next week," she mentioned offhandedly while inspecting a patch of roots. She wasn't even sure why she brought it up, but once she said it, the words hung in the air between them.

Daryl, keeping his gaze on the woods around them, didn't respond. No grunt, no nod. He didn't ask for more details. It didn't surprise her—he rarely commented on the personal stuff she talked about.

Nora smiled to herself. She should've known better than to expect a reaction. He wasn't the type to care about birthdays. In fact, she wasn't even sure why she'd mentioned it. It wasn't like anyone on the farm would celebrate it. They had bigger things to worry about. And that was okay. It had to be okay. This is the way the world works now.

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The week passed, and when Nora's birthday arrived, it went unnoticed. Not that she expected anyone to remember—she hadn't really told anyone, except for that offhanded comment to Daryl, and he hadn't seemed to care. Still, a small part of her felt disappointed as she went about her usual chores, her birthday slipping by like any other day. She didn't let it get to her—there were bigger things to worry about now.

Daryl didn't show up for practice that morning either, which stung more than she wanted to admit.

He probably forgot, she thought to herself as she cleaned out the stables. Daryl was always busy, coming and going on his own, and she knew better than to expect him to stick to a schedule.

Still, she couldn't help but feel a little hurt that he hadn't shown up.

By the time the sun had begun to set, Nora had resigned herself to the idea that the day would pass just like any other. The disappointment gnawed at her as she made her way back to her room in the farmhouse - even as she tried to shove it aside.

When she stepped inside, she froze.

There, on her nightstand, was a small, folded card. Nora's heart skipped a beat as she picked it up. The handwriting was scratchy, almost crude, like someone wasn't used to writing much. Her stomach flipped as she realized who it was from.

She unfolded the card carefully, her breath catching as she read the short, simple message:

"Pond. 9 pm."

It was direct, to the point—exactly like Daryl. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out what this was. Daryl doesn't do things like this, she thought, staring at the note in disbelief. But the message was clear, and a flicker of excitement stirred in her chest.

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The air was cool as Nora made her way to the pond just before 9. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving a blanket of stars scattered across the dark sky. When she arrived at the pond, she saw Daryl leaning against the side of an old pickup truck, parked by the water's edge. Her heart pounded in confusion.