- Trust is like underwear. Essential. But don’t just give it to everyone.

  - Still… if you never wear it, things start to chafe.

  People will surprise you. That can be bad. That can also be good.

  ---

  I gave her the course again. No speech this time. No pressure.

  Well. Less pressure.

  Except five zombies managed to find their way into the testing area. Don’t ask how. Maybe I left the gate open. Maybe they smelled a snack. Or maybe the universe likes throwing curveballs when someone’s just starting to believe in themselves.

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  I watched from the rooftop, heart in my throat. She didn’t run. She didn’t freeze.

  She moved.

  Messy. Desperate. Sloppy as hell—but real. She ran into the store, bat in hand. She let the zombies in. She used the shelves. Used the narrowness of the aisle to fight them one by one. When the bat broke, she threw a jug of expired milk. Slammed a display rack into one’s face. Picked up a trowel, Slipped on gunk, got back up, screamed, fought back, and ended it with her going stabby-go-lucky.

  All five. Down.

  By the time I climbed down and burst in, she was sitting on the floor, breathing like she’d just finished a marathon. Bruised. Blood on her clothes (not hers). Cheeks flushed.

  But alive. Victorious.

  She looked up at me. Nervous. Like I was gonna yell.

  I didn’t.

  I just sat down beside her, handed her a warm juice box, and said, “Next time, save some for me.”

  Trust.

  I’ve been bad at that.

  But maybe… not everyone leaves. Not everyone breaks you. Not everyone uses you as a stepping stone and drives away in your Jeep.

  Maybe some people actually stay. And fight. And grow.

  And sometimes, you just gotta let them.