When they finally stopped running for a moment, Maggie set a hand on a nearby tree, leaning her weight into it as she watched this girl who couldn't be her sister. But she had to be. The little things that signaled Beth were all there - the way she held herself and moved, the quirks in her facial expressions, the cadence of her voice. The only options were that she was really Beth Greene, or that this ghost's sister had lost her mind.
The more she saw, though, the more she started to believe. That cut on her cheek, the one she was trying so hard to cover, Beth had had a cut just like that. Maggie had seen it when they'd buried the body, when she'd been forced to say goodbye to the only blood relation she'd had left in this cruel, dying world. And it hadn't looked any more healed than the one she wore now. But how. How was any of this happening? How could her sister be there when she was supposed to be dead?
It was only when Beth was suddenly wrapped around her that Maggie realized the truth: that the truth didn't matter one bit. Beth was there. She was alive, and Maggie had a chance at keeping her safe, at making sure she found her own husband and lived to a ripe old age full of happy memories.
Because her sister was alive.
Maggie clung to her, holding on with all her strength and wishing she never had to let go. It was futile to try to keep the tears in, and she pressed a kiss to Beth's rain-soaked hair. "I missed you too," she said with a ragged breath that tried to turn into a sob. "You have no idea."
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The more she saw, though, the more she started to believe. That cut on her cheek, the one she was trying so hard to cover, Beth had had a cut just like that. Maggie had seen it when they'd buried the body, when she'd been forced to say goodbye to the only blood relation she'd had left in this cruel, dying world. And it hadn't looked any more healed than the one she wore now. But how. How was any of this happening? How could her sister be there when she was supposed to be dead?
It was only when Beth was suddenly wrapped around her that Maggie realized the truth: that the truth didn't matter one bit. Beth was there. She was alive, and Maggie had a chance at keeping her safe, at making sure she found her own husband and lived to a ripe old age full of happy memories.
Because her sister was alive.
Maggie clung to her, holding on with all her strength and wishing she never had to let go. It was futile to try to keep the tears in, and she pressed a kiss to Beth's rain-soaked hair. "I missed you too," she said with a ragged breath that tried to turn into a sob. "You have no idea."