Lydia’s morning routine hadn’t changed much in the passing months. She was still up before dawn (which honestly had more to do with a restless four-year-old who woke up early and demanded breakfast) and ready to start her day before most of the hotel residents. Peaceful times, if one ignored the ever-present groans of zombies beyond the fences that were still intact.
Yoga on one of the patios facing the ocean was perfection. There was no place more ideal, if you asked her. These few silent stolen moments of every morning were the best part of her day. A wide expanse of blue was her only view, and while she was focused on her thoughts, it was easy to imagine her family was still on vacation.
Afterwards, though, reality was a punch to the gut. She imagined that was how a lot of folks viewed every day on the island, when they didn’t have a proper outlet. Just a mass of depression and hopelessness. Lydia was ever grateful for the support she had from her family. Without them, she wouldn’t have been able to get by. Especially with the anger that had been slowly boiling under the surface ever since her abduction by the cannibals. At least she wasn’t walking the line of insanity like Graves seemed to be.
Or drinking herself into oblivion like others. The thought came to mind when Lydia rested eyes on the Boston firefighter. Louisa had spent several nights with the younger girls in Lydia’s room. She didn’t necessarily mind, but it did raise a few eyebrows. Last night, Nate hadn’t brought Louisa by, but she wasn’t with him now, in the early hours of the morning, so Lydia couldn’t help but wonder where she was. And where he had been.
Focusing on the building behind him, which he was clearly leaving, Lydia felt her eyes narrow. Alcoholic parents went into the same category as abusive parents. Neglect was the same thing as physical abuse, as far as she was concerned. So that was what he’d been up to all these nights in December.
“Morning,” she greeted, falling in line beside him. “You’re up and around earlier than I’ve seen you. If you’re off to the dining room to find breakfast for you and your girl, you’re heading the wrong way.” Her tone was friendly, but there was an edge to it that hinted her naivety was an act.