The sun was beginning to set over the prison, casting long shadows across the fences and buildings. The group had settled into a temporary rhythm, their lives intertwined with survival, but today something felt off. It wasn’t the walkers or the food shortages; it was something deeper.

Inside one of the quiet rooms, Song Jihyo sat by herself, staring out the small barred window. She didn’t seem to notice the others walking past, their footsteps muted against the prison's cold concrete floors. Her hands rested on her knees, her face devoid of the usual strength she once carried. The weight of the apocalypse had taken its toll on her, but it wasn’t just the fear of survival—it was the loss of the life she once knew.

She was rich. She had once lived in a villa surrounded by luxurious things: designer clothes, expensive cars, and freedom that most people could only dream of. Her family’s company had provided for everything she could have ever wanted. Now, it seemed as if all of that wealth was useless. There were no lavish dinners, no nights out, no shopping sprees. All of it was gone.

And what was left? A world where survival was the only thing that mattered, and riches meant nothing.

Daryl had noticed her from the corner of his eye. He had seen her distant expression before. The others, like Rick, had been trying to keep things together, but they knew something was wrong. It was like the spark in her had died, replaced by a grim acceptance of the new world. But Daryl didn’t like seeing her like this.

“I’m gonna check on her,” Daryl said quietly to the group. He had always been the quiet one, the one who understood people without needing to say much.

Rick nodded, a concerned look on his face. “Make sure she’s okay.”

Daryl walked over to Jihyo’s room. Her back was to the door, and the soft sound of her breathing was the only sound in the room. He knocked lightly on the frame, hesitant, unsure of how to approach her.

Jihyo didn’t look up, but her voice broke the silence. “What do you want?” she asked, her tone flat, void of emotion.

Daryl stepped closer. “I just wanted to check in on you. You’ve been quiet for a while.”

She scoffed, finally turning around to face him. “Check in on me? You all just want to make sure I’m not going to lose it, right? Make sure the rich girl doesn’t get too upset because she’s no longer living the life she once had.”

Daryl blinked, a little taken aback by her harsh words. He knew she was struggling, but he hadn’t expected this bitterness.

“You think it’s about that?” Daryl asked, trying to keep his voice calm. “You think anyone cares about how much money you had before all this?” He took a step closer. “We all lost something, Jihyo. But we keep going. We have to.”

Jihyo let out a bitter laugh, standing up from the chair. “You don’t get it, do you? You’re all so used to surviving like this, but it’s different for me. I had everything. Now, what do I have? Nothing.” She paused, her hands trembling slightly. “Nothing at all.”

Daryl stepped closer to her, his expression softer now. “You got us.”

Her eyes flashed with frustration. “That’s not enough. What are you all going to do? Make me feel better by telling me we’re in this together? What’s the point of anything now, Daryl? What’s the point of surviving if it’s just about living like this?”

Daryl didn’t know how to respond. She wasn’t just upset about the apocalypse. She was grieving the loss of everything she had known, and no matter how much he wanted to help her, he knew that pain couldn’t be fixed with words.

Suddenly, Glenn, Maggie, and Rick appeared in the doorway, all of them concerned.

“Jihyo, listen,” Glenn began, stepping forward. “We understand that this is hard. You’re not the only one who’s struggling. But we’re all in this together. We don’t care about your money or your past. We care about you.” His voice was gentle but firm.

Maggie nodded in agreement. “None of us chose this. But we’re all here because we have to be. And if you need us, we’ll be here. We’re family now.”

Jihyo felt her eyes water as Maggie’s words sank in. She turned away from them, staring at the wall, trying to hold back the tears. She didn’t want to cry. Not in front of them. She had been strong before, but now it felt like everything she had worked for in her life was slipping away.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Rick said, his voice calm but full of conviction. “We all miss what we had, but we’ve found new ways to live, new reasons to keep fighting.”

Jihyo wiped her eyes, but the tears kept coming. She couldn’t stop them. “I don’t know how to keep going,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Daryl, who had been quiet until now, spoke up again. “You don’t have to have all the answers. None of us do. But we keep going because that’s what we do. We keep going, no matter what.”

For a long moment, no one spoke. The weight of their words hung heavy in the room. But Jihyo could feel the warmth of their support. It was nothing like the life she had lived before, but it was something. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

She took a deep breath and turned back toward them, her face still streaked with tears. “I don’t know if I can ever be who I was. But... maybe I can try to be part of this. For now.”

Rick smiled softly. “That’s all any of us can do.”

And for the first time in a long time, Jihyo felt like maybe she didn’t have to figure it all out on her own. Maybe, with them by her side, she could find a new purpose.

Even in a world that had lost everything.

The End.