thirty eight

Ariana moved swiftly through the dimly lit hallways, her body on autopilot, each step more determined than the last. She kept her head down, avoiding the eyes of anyone who passed. If they noticed the duffel bag slung over her shoulder or the haunted look in her eyes, no one said a word.

The Sanctuary had a way of swallowing secrets, of letting things go unspoken. It was a place built on fear, after all, fear of Negan, fear of what stepping out of line might bring.

But not for her. Not anymore.

Her mind raced as she made her way through the twisting corridors, memories flashing like fragments of broken glass. The nights she had spent in Negan's arms, the stolen moments where he whispered things that made her feel safe, valued.

It was all poisoned now, every smile a deception, every touch a calculated move to keep her loyal. The realisation felt like a pit opening up inside her, swallowing everything she thought she knew.

She had never belonged here. She had known that deep down, but she had wanted to believe in something... someone.

That hope had blinded her to the truth.

As she neared the main gates, she hesitated. Where would she go? She had cut ties with Alexandria, convinced she could find something more here, with Negan.

She couldn't go back, not like this, broken and humiliated. She didn't even know if Rick and the others would take her in. They had seen her as a traitor, a deserter.

And maybe, she thought bitterly, they weren't wrong.

But staying wasn't an option. Every second she spent here, the walls seemed to close in, pressing the truth down on her like an unbearable weight. She couldn't stay and pretend anymore. Not after hearing what she had. Not after understanding just how little she meant to Negan.

The night air hit her like a slap as she stepped outside, cool and biting against her flushed skin. Her lungs filled with the crisp air, a welcome relief from the suffocating confines of the Sanctuary. She felt a momentary flicker of panic, her heart hammering as she realized the enormity of what she was doing. But it was quickly swallowed by the anger simmering beneath the surface.

She was done. Done letting Negan control her, done playing along in a game she hadn't known she was part of. She had to get as far away from here as possible.

"Leaving already?"

A voice cut through the stillness, and Ariana froze. She recognized it instantly... Dwight. He stepped out of the shadows, his face half-hidden in the dim light. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes, something that told her he knew. Maybe he had known for a long time.

Ariana swallowed hard, her throat tight. She wasn't sure what to say, wasn't sure she had the strength to explain herself. Not to him. Not now.

"Yeah." She said finally, her voice low and hoarse from holding back tears. "I'm done."

Dwight didn't move, but his eyes never left hers. For a moment, they stood in silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them. He glanced at her bag, then back at her, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"You heard everything he said, didn't you?" His voice was quiet, almost resigned.

Ariana nodded, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from breaking down. "All of it."

He sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Everyone tried to warn you. I knew this would happen."

She looked away, a fresh wave of shame washing over her. Of course, Dwight had known. He had been there longer than anyone, had seen the way Negan played his games. She had been too blind, too wrapped up in her own need for something real to see it.

"I thought I could..." Her voice cracked, and she stopped, wiping furiously at the tears that threatened to spill again. "I thought I mattered to him."

Dwight shifted, his face softening just a fraction. "Negan doesn't care about anyone but Negan. You should've known that."

She did know now, with painful clarity. "I was stupid."

"No." Dwight said firmly, taking a step closer. "You weren't stupid. Just... hopeful. That's not a crime."

A bitter laugh escaped her lips, the sound hollow. "It feels like one."

For a moment, Dwight was silent, as if weighing something. Finally, he spoke again, his voice low.

"If you're really leaving, you need to go now. Before anyone else sees you."

Ariana nodded, her resolve hardening again. She slung the duffel over her shoulder and took a step toward the gate. But before she could take another, Dwight's voice stopped her.

"Where will you go?"

She hesitated, glancing back at him. "I don't know. Anywhere but here. I don't quite think after all of this that I'll be welcomed back with open arms at Alexandria..."

Dwight studied her for a long moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper. He handed it to her, his face expressionless.

"There's a safe place. North of here. Some of us... we've been planning something. When you get there, don't be surprised if you have a visitor. I promise it won't be Negan."

Ariana took the paper, her fingers brushing his for a brief second. She opened her mouth to ask more, but he was already turning away, melting back into the shadows.

"Dwight!" She called after him, her voice shaky. He paused but didn't turn around. "Thank you."

He didn't respond, but she could feel the weight of his acknowledgment in the silence. Then, without another word, he disappeared into the night, leaving her standing alone in the cold.

Ariana stared at the piece of paper in her hand, her mind reeling. It wasn't much, but it was a start, a way out. She folded it carefully and tucked it into her pocket before turning back toward the gate.

As she stepped through, the weight of the Sanctuary began to lift from her shoulders. She didn't know what was waiting for her out there, beyond these walls, but it didn't matter.

•••

Ariana's boots crunched against the gravel as she approached the small, weathered house. The journey north had been grueling, days spent moving through overgrown forests, skirting abandoned roads, avoiding the roving bands of Saviours she knew could be lurking anywhere.

She had stuck to the backroads, her heart hammering in her chest every time she thought she heard a noise. But the long days had given her time to think, to steel herself for what came next. The pain of Negan's betrayal still throbbed in her chest, but now, it was dulled, replaced by a burning need to survive on her own terms.

Now, she stood at the edge of what Dwight had promised would be a safe place.

The house looked like it had been untouched for years. The paint was peeling from the wooden siding, vines creeping up the walls as if trying to reclaim it. The windows were cracked but intact, dusty curtains drawn tightly across them. The front yard was overgrown, a tangle of weeds and dying grass. There were no signs of life. No movement. No noise except the wind rustling through the trees.

Ariana's stomach clenched as she reached the front steps, her hand hovering just above the rusted doorknob. She had come all this way, but what if Dwight had been wrong? What if this place wasn't safe?

She took a deep breath and turned the handle. The door creaked loudly, the sound like a groan of protest as it swung open. Inside, the air was stale and thick with dust, as though the house had been sealed for years. Sunlight filtered in through the cracks in the curtains, casting long, slanted beams across the floor. It was eerily quiet.

Ariana stepped inside, her heart pounding in her chest. The first thing she noticed was the emptiness. The house wasn't abandoned in the way she'd expected, there was furniture here, but it felt wrong. It was too neat. A table stood in the center of the room, a few chairs around it. A threadbare couch rested against the far wall, facing a fireplace that hadn't been used in ages.

There was no clutter, no sign of anyone having lived here recently. It felt staged, like a place waiting for someone to come back, but no one had.

Her footsteps echoed lightly as she moved deeper inside, her eyes scanning for any hint of life. A kitchen lay just beyond the main room, with a small stove and a few empty cabinets. She glanced at the counters... spotless. There was nothing to suggest anyone had been here in a long time.

Her chest tightened with disappointment. She had hoped... well, she wasn't sure what she had hoped for. But not this. She had followed Dwight's directions to the letter, and yet it seemed like the house had been abandoned long before she arrived.

Ariana set her duffel down by the door, wiping her hands on her trousers to calm the tremor that had started in her fingers. There was a creeping sense of dread settling in her bones, but she forced herself to keep moving, to check the rest of the house.

She climbed the narrow staircase to the second floor, the steps groaning beneath her weight. The upstairs was as empty as the first. Two small bedrooms, each as untouched as the rest of the house. One had a bed with neatly folded sheets, the other had a few boxes stacked in the corner, but neither room showed signs of recent activity.

Ariana stood in the hallway for a moment, unsure of what to do next. She leaned her back against the wall, exhaling a slow, shaky breath.

Ariana made her way back downstairs, her mind racing. She would stay for now. She had nowhere else to go, and despite the emptiness, there was a strange sense of safety here. Whoever had lived here had left it in a way that felt intentional, like they were waiting for someone to return.

She moved to the couch, sinking into the old, lumpy cushions. The silence felt overwhelming, pressing in on her from all sides. Her thoughts drifted back to the Sanctuary, to Negan's voice echoing in her mind. The words cut through her again, but this time, they felt different... distant, like they were from another life.

Her hand absentmindedly brushed the edge of the couch, and suddenly, her fingers grazed something cold and metallic. She blinked, sitting up straighter, her heart skipping a beat. A knife. A small blade had been wedged between the cushions, hidden just out of sight.

Ariana held it up, the weight of the steel cool in her palm. It wasn't much, but it was something, a sign that someone had been here recently. Maybe Dwight hadn't lied. Maybe this place really was part of something larger, something she didn't yet understand.

She set the knife down on the table, her mind buzzing with questions. Who had left it behind? Had they meant for her to find it? And if they had... when were they coming back?

Just as the thought crossed her mind, there was a sound outside. The crunch of footsteps on gravel, followed by a soft knock on the door.

Ariana froze, her heart leaping into her throat.

For a long moment, she didn't move, didn't breathe. The knock came again, louder this time. Her eyes darted to the knife, and without thinking, she snatched it up, holding it tight in her fist.

Whoever was on the other side knocked a third time. Then a voice... a woman's, called softly from the other side.

"Ariana? It's Sherry. Dwight sent me."