After leaving the weapons shop, I looked over Clementine's new purchases. She had chosen a compound crossbow, expensive, but worth every bit of it, along with a sniper rifle. As for me, I bought several Molotov and grenades. Both would be extremely useful for clearing out the horde.
Michonne and Andrea went on guard duty after securing the supplies. Molly, meanwhile, headed off on her own to buy something, leaving Clementine and me alone.
I glanced at Clementine more closely and noticed she seemed unusually quiet, almost sad. I asked her gently,"Are you still mad about what I said earlier? I'm sorry... I was just teasing you... your chest is perfect for my hand."
She smiled slowly, but it quickly faded into a frown as she lightly punched my shoulder."Stop talking about my chest. You know how self-conscious I am about it... and I can never stay mad at you."
She grew quiet, pausing for a moment before continuing."I just feel like I'm becoming a burden to you. This whole thing happened because of me, and I keep doing things that go against what you want. I'm worried you'll start resenting me."
She stared down at her feet instead of looking at me; her posture was vulnerable and uncertain.
"Clem," I said softly, taking her hand, "you know I could never resent you. I'm just afraid of losing you. I worry you might get hurt. I know you're strong enough to survive—I'm just upset with myself for not being strong enough to protect you, so you never have to feel like a burden."
She didn't respond, but she moved closer, gently hugging my arm as we walked through the market together.
As we passed through the end of the market, where people who could not afford stall fees sold their items on the ground, everyone was selling whatever they could find. Sometimes you could get lucky and discover something truly valuable, so it was always fun to visit and see what people had to offer. Many were bargaining and trading, and the entire market was bustling with people running around, searching for any good deal. Being here sometimes made me forget that we were living in an apocalypse, where anyone could die at any moment.
As we walked, a young boy, about ten years old approached us. His jacket was ripped and patched, and even his shoes were mismatched. It was very rare to see children; most of them had died in the months after everything began, so seeing one still alive was both surprising and unsettling.
"Big brother and sister, would you like to have your portrait drawn?" the boy asked with a bright smile."My mommy is very good at drawing. For just one credit, she can draw your portrait."
The boy looked at us with hope and expectation.
Clementine studied him for a moment before crouching slightly to meet his gaze. Her voice was gentle but measured."A portrait, huh? Where's your mom?" she asked.
"Big sister, come with me. I'll show you," the boy said, leading us toward his mother.
She was farther back in the market, where almost nobody passed by her stall. She looked thin and exhausted, sitting in the cold with a blanket over her head. She moved warily, as if always watching for danger.
"Mommy! I found customers!" the boy ran toward her, pointing at us.
"Stupid boy! Didn't I tell you to stay in my sight?" his mother scolded, clearly upset as she examined him.
The boy lowered his head. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to help."
Her expression softened as she patted his head. "You did good—but don't do that again."
Her eyes then landed on us and widened in panic when she noticed the weapons on our backs.
"I'm very sorry for my son troubling you. Please forgive him—he's just a child," the mother said desperately, trembling slightly.
"He didn't," Clementine replied calmly. "We came because he offered us a portrait. If you're willing."
The woman relaxed a little, though she remained cautious. "All right. Please, have a seat," she said, pointing to a carpet on the ground.
We sat down together as she began drawing. After a few minutes, Clementine spoke again, her tone quieter."Were you an artist before… everything?"
The woman, holding the brush, replied quietly, "I used to be an art professor at Atlanta College. I had three children. All of them died."
Clementine and I were shocked. Our eyes drifted toward the boy who was playing nearby.
The woman followed our gaze and continued softly, "After losing my three children, I had no will to live. I was about to throw myself into the river when I found this boy. He had nobody, and neither did I—so I adopted him."
She smiled faintly at the boy.
I felt Clementine's hand tighten around mine. Her jaw was set, eyes distant.
"Do you miss Lee?" I whispered.
She nodded once, saying nothing.
I turned back to the woman and asked, "What about your husband?"
Her smile faded. "He died trying to protect our children."
I nodded silently, not wanting to reopen her wounds.
A few minutes later, the drawing was finished.
Clementine happily picked it up and stared at the portrait of us. "Max, this will be perfect in our house," she said, hugging it tightly.
The woman spoke nervously, almost in a whisper. "That will be one credit—or one meal of food. You may also trade, if you like."
I smiled and pulled out my stamp, handing her ten credits.
She looked shocked. "Sir, it's only one credit," she said nervously, thinking I had made a mistake.
"This is your tip," I replied. "I really like the drawing."
Her face lit up as she thanked me repeatedly.
Before we left, I noticed a diamond ring on her hand. "Would you be willing to trade that ring?" I asked. "I'll give you thirty credits for it."
She hesitated only a moment before agreeing. Jewelry had no real value anymore, it was just a rock, but food meant survival. I didn't want to help them for free. Trading made it feel fair.
I placed the diamond ring on Clementine's finger. "Here's the gift I promised you."
She stared at it, eyes wide, then smiled brighter than I'd seen in a long time."It's beautiful," she said, hugging me tightly and kissing me without hesitation.
After saying goodbye to the woman and her son, we headed back toward the hotel, already thinking about the meeting waiting for us the next day.