He looks over at her like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. It's not enough for them to be here; something else has to happen, and he looks like he knows it in his bones.

"That's Glenn," she says again, looking at Daryl instead of the bare patch of ground before them. This is why they're out here together: so she can get this off her chest. It doesn't matter if they don't speak again for days (or weeks, or months), as long as he's heard the truth. Doesn't even matter if he listens--someday, she hopes, he'll understand. "And the reason he's in the ground there? That was Negan. He's the one who decided to swing that bat, and he's the one who swung it at Glenn."

Her throat closes up for a second, and she has to swallow before she can keep going. But when she does, her voice made low and tight by old tears she's not going to shed now, it's with a fire under every word. "Now, we both know you wouldn't have moved if you thought it'd hurt one of us. That's not who you are. I know that, everyone else here knows that, and if Glenn's out there--" She swallows again, harder this time. "Glenn wouldn't have any doubt. You need to know that, too. You didn't do this."