MAGGIE RHEE'S face was ingrained in Lilith Smith's mind. Every time she closed her eyes, she was met with the image herself looking into the barrel of the pregnant woman's gun. For the first time in a long, she genuinely had no idea how to get out of the situation---it was all luck. She had absolutely no clue whether Maggie actually would've killed her. And it killed her.

Days after the incident at the satellite, and the teenager still obsessed over it. She tormented herself with questions of what she could have done differently and what did she do right.

Her father told her everyday that they would get revenge. . . but everyday they do nothing. She waited and waited for something to come up, for news from any direction to WE FOUND EM. But still, nothing.

Lilith, to be generous, was growing agitated.

Marching down the hall with a fiery purpose, past the Long Table and the wives, she busted into her father's bedroom.

Negan laid on the couch, one wife on either side with his arms around both. He looked up alarmed as his door hit the wall behind it.

"Get out." Lilith ordered the two older women.

They obeyed her immediately---most likely itching for an excuse to leave anyway.

Lilith faked a gag once the door closed. "I hate the way you are," she mumbled just loudly enough for her father to hear. Sitting in a chair across from him, she leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. "It's been a week. We've made no progress. Do you want to hand these people their own asses or not?"

"Darlin' listen, we're trying-"

"Well, try fucking harder. We need to find these people. Now. Just the thought that they're probably back wherever they call home, laughing about just how successful their murder spree was, it makes me sick. You weren't there, so you don't get to tell me to be patient. I know I told you I could handle myself, but that didn't mean I wanted everyone to completely back off, like come on! Please, work faster."

Negan stared in awe, his eyebrows raised and lips parted ever so slightly. He snapped out of the daze he was in, bringing a hand to his mouth. "Well shit, honey," he starts, "I'm sorry. . . and you're right. I'll get more people on it and we'll get you closure, ok?"

Lilith thought for a moment, "I'll believe it when I see it." She stood up and walked out of the room, but not before turning back to her father and giving a loving middle finger.

"Love ya too!" She heard echo behind her.

This is how they've always been---vulgar, blunt, brutally honest. Not that they don't get soft with each other, they're the only family each has left, after all. However, since her mother died, Lilith and her father were always just angry or sad or numb, rarely having the energy or want to comfort the other. 

It sucked---being so cold with each other. Occasionally---rarely---Lilith thought about her life before. Their "perfect" family of three was completely unrecognizable now. Her father was no longer the man who raised her, and she was not the sweet girl he watched grow up.

She did miss that man. The man who used to pull her out of school early simply to hang out. The man who used to take her to R rated movies, even after her mother said no. The man that taught her to cook her favorite meals and trusted her in the kitchen. The man who devoted every ounce of love in his heart to his wife and daughter.

He doesn't do that anymore, and Lilith has a small ounce of resentment in her stomach at all times because of it. People make excuses for him, saying that tough love is necessary in this world and times are changing, but Lilith knows bullshit when she sees it. He's trying to create a new world order---one where the people he wants alive, survive, one where he gets the last word, the final say. He calls it adapting or moving on. Lilith always scoffs at this idea---moving on---easy for him to say. He didn't lose a mother.

"Heya princess," She heard abruptly from behind her as she strolled through the sanctuary halls. Her stomach dropped a bit when she whipped her head to see who was addressing her.

"Simon," She said with a complete lack of enthusiasm, "what can I do for you?"

"Nothin'" He responded in an annoyingly chipper tone, "ya just seemed down in the dumps." He stood awkwardly close to her, hands resting on his hips. Simon's always made her uncomfortable. With his towering height and bushy moustache, she tried her best to keep her distance. "Is it about that whole sitch-ee-ay-shin at the Satellite outpost?"

"You mean the one you should've been responsible for?" Lilith responded coldly, "Yeah, something about that."

"Look sweetheart, if I had known that Fat Joey would--"

"First, please don't call me that. Second, I'd really appreciate it if you only spoke when spoken to. Thanks!" the girl began to walk away purposefully, desperate to leave the man in the dust

"Aye-aye cap'n," he called after her with sarcasm in his voice and saluted mockingly, "brood away!"

The teenager decided to change routes to the library once Simon was out of sight. Their "library" was not all that impressive. It was a former maintenance closet with two five-foot shelves. No one in the apocalypse cared enough about books to collect them. She'd never been an avid reader herself either, but she had developed an appreciation for it. She was not one for obsessing over certain books, but her mom was.

When she was in grade school, her mom read her different Jane Austen novels every night before bed. The first one ever was Pride and Prejudice, her mom's favorite. Lilith's favorite was Emma, because of the spunkiness of the title character. So opposite from herself, yet everything she wanted to be. . . used to want to be. She kept a copy of it on her nightstand, the same one her mom read. Lilith took it and Pride and Prejudice with her the moment they left home, which her dad thought was stupid and a waste of space, but she didn't care.

Approaching the small closet-library, she saw a familiar back-of-the-head mop of ginger hair pulled into it's usual half up-half down style. The woman crouched down looking on the bottom shelf of one bookcase.

"Frankie," Lilith addressed her.

The young woman turned her head to look at the teenager, "Lilith, honey, hi. How are you holding up?"

"Been better."

"You can say that again," Frankie joked and gave her a bittersweet smile. Frankie was her favorite of all the "wives" because of how gentle she was. She reminded Lilith of her mom. Sherry was nice too, she didn't take her dad's shit like all the others did. But the difference between Sherry and Frankie was how they separate Lilith from her dad. It's not Sherry's fault, but the brunette woman couldn't help but associate them whenever she saw the teenager around. Frankie understood that Lilith was her own person, and she always checked up on her.

Lilith chuckled, "Hey is um-"

"Jane Austen? Always. No one comes in here except for me and you. And I know you're only ever here for her."

"Thanks, Frankie."

"I'll see you later, sweet girl." She paused and squeezed Lilith's shoulder before walking off.

She grabbed the first Austen novel she that caught her eye and returned to her bedroom. Sprawling on her stomach, she finally looked at the title of the novel she picked up. Sense and Sensibility. Her gaze shifted to her nightstand, her own two novels stacked on top of each other. She exhaled loudly and opened up to chapter one.

Mom hated this one. Lilith thought to herself. She didn't hate it in the sense that it was a bad book, it was an amazing story, but her mom got so annoyed with the characters. The only memories Lilith had of her mom reading this to her consisted of constant complaints and remarks about the main characters. She thought Marianne did not deserve to marry the colonel.

Lilith laughed to herself as she recalled the memory. She wished she could get as invested as her mom could get.

What felt like hours later, Lilith realized she had fallen into a near-sleep, as she was woken up by her father rubbing her back softly.

"Baby doll, wake up," He whispered gently.

Lilith side-eyed him. "What?" her voice came out muffled from the pillow.

"I got some news for you."

"Mhm?"

"We got 'em.'"

Lilith's tired and aggravated expression immediately changed into one of malus and anticipation. Well, holy hell, took you long enough.

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