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head as I pass by. Out of all the survivors in the Grand, Amy and Olivia are the only two I allow to see my softer side. Amy because-well-she's Amy. And Liv because she’s been there from the start. Or the end. Whatever way you want to look at it.
    She’d been part of the group that found me. The evening bartender just coming on duty at some dive bar when the invasion happened. Captain John Cooper had also been in that bar, drowning his sorrows at his recent breakup. They had been the only survivors out of the dozen or so other patrons. Lucky for Liv, Coop had a gun. Lucky for me, they decided to stick together and look for other uninfected.
    Liv had been the one Cooper handed me off to, that fateful morning. She was the person who bandaged my cheek and treated my shock. The one who slowly brought me around, after the impact of what happened had left me damaged and speechless. Not only did she heal me, but had been the biggest contributor to my now extensive vocabulary of choice words, though she would never in a thousand years admit to that. She was the closest thing I had to a mother for the past eight years.
    "Good to see you back safe and sound kiddo," she says, following me into the small apartment and closing the door, blocking out the sound of the still howling kids. "How was the run?"
    "Uneventful. Found next to nothing. Area 20 is empty. Picked clean. Hopefully 21 will have more to offer. We did notice something strange though. Usually that part of the city is crawling with leeches, since it's heavily populated by ravagers. But not this time. We barely saw any. It was weird. It was almost like..."
    "Bix!" The shout from the bedroom drowns out the rest of my words. The door flies open with a crash and Amy comes barreling through. Her round face is lit up with pleasure at seeing me. But before she makes it across the room, she falters and her smile fades. I can see her brain working overtime as she remembers she’s angry at me, and the smile is instantly replaced with a pout.
    "You didn't come see me when you got back. You promised you would come see me as soon as you got back. Remember what we say about breaking promises?"
    I sigh inwardly at her anger, even though I know I deserve it. You never break a promise to Amy.
    "I know, and I'm sorry, Ames. Just, the debriefing with Cooper took forever, and then we had to write up the report, and I was so tired and dirty..."
    "You missed Sammy's birthday," she says solemnly. I falter at her words. I know I did. But how do I tell the childlike woman standing across from me that I’d done it on purpose? That I didn't have the strength or the guts to face a whole day of hashing over memories of the love I’d lost. That I’d chosen instead, to spend the day avoiding all thoughts of Sam by being in the arms of another man. So I do what I usually do. I chicken out and don't say anything. The slanted eyes associated with her Down syndrome hold no accusation though; only sadness as we share the painful memory. Then, unexpectedly, the smile returns to her small mouth and her stubby finger points my way.
    "It's okay-remember how he hated birthdays? He wouldn't have wanted us to do anything anyways. Remember, the only thing he said he liked about birthdays was cake."
    She starts laughing at her recollection. Liv and I join in.
    "Yeah, I remember," I say quietly. "He would eat the whole damn thing himself and practically bite our fingers off if we came anywhere near it. And he didn't even care that the cakes Cookie made him were like bricks. Didn't even want gifts; it was all about the cake."
    I choke slightly on my words, the pain back in my heart. I can't do this now , I think as I swallow the grief and cough slightly.
    "Speaking of gifts," I say overly bright, changing the subject. I pick up my backpack, ignoring Liv's all-knowing look of sympathy and rummage through the bag. Amy's squeal almost busts an eardrum as she starts jumping up and down clapping her hands