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"Do you want to be here, Daryl?"
That's a stupid question. They're here, aren't they? The houses are too big, too magazine centrefold and he's almost afraid to touch anything lest he leave smears.
It doesn't matter that he's out of his element. What's best for the young ones...they deserve better than the road, better than water that ain't all that clean, better than squatting in barns.
It's too perfect, it's pretend safe, and he's itchy at the thought of staying, some square peg jammed into a round hole, but...Rick says they're here and he'll abide by that.
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