“Same dream?” Connor’s shaky voice asked out after a long moment. Murphy just nodded his head and stared at his brother. “T'ink it means somethin’?”
The twins had been having the same dream for the past few nights. They weren’t sure what it meant, but it was always the same. Connor would die, and then Murphy. Every time it was someone different killing them, sometime it was just walkers.
This time it just had to be Daryl Dixon.
“I ‘ope not.” Murphy finally said in a weak tone, the two breathing heavily in unison.
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