You were finally free. Finally safe. From the dangers of the Maze, from W.C.K.D. From everything that could hurt you, right? That's what Harriet and Sonya told y'all. The Right Arm: a small army opposing the forces of WICKED.

After a.. not so great entrance, Vince decided to let you stay. You were immune, after all. Plus, you were just kids. You needed the safety. A place to sleep, some new clothes and some food. You needed a fresh start.

The camp wasn't of most luxury, but it was home. The remaining Gladers: Frypan, Minho, Thomas and Newt, sat down by the bonfire as you changed behind a thick piece of cloth, spread out for the privacy one could get here. But as the dim firelight hit your body, casting a shadow on the boulder behind you, Frypan couldn't help but look. He turned his head, staring at the shilouette of your body shamelessly.

Newt, being the boy he was, noticed this. Placing two fingers on the side of his chin, he turned Fry's head, so he was looking at Newt, not you. "Nuh uh." Newt shook his head.