Thomas wandered through the overgrown outskirts of the safe haven, a place he thought he knew like the back of his hand. The sun filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground, and for a moment, he felt a sense of peace. But something gnawed at him—the remnants of danger still lurked, whispering through the rustling leaves.

He pushed deeper into the brush, curiosity guiding him. He had often imagined this place as completely uninhabited, but as he rounded a bend, he froze. There, sitting against the trunk of a gnarled tree, was a girl. Her hair was tangled, and dirt smudged her cheeks, but her eyes were sharp and wary.

“Who are you?” he asked, voice steady despite the surprise that coursed through him.

She jumped at the sound of his voice, instinctively reaching for a stick beside her. “I could ask you the same,” she replied, her tone defiant.

Not wanting any violence, he put his hands up defensively, “I’m Thomas... I thought this place was empty,” he admitted, taking a cautious step closer. "Are you from WCKD?"

The girl shook her head, slowly and cautiously lowering her makeshift weapon. “No. I’ve been hiding out here since the Flare hit... I thought I was alone.” Her gaze softened, revealing a flicker of vulnerability beneath her bravado.

Thomas sucked in a breath, looking at the stick in her hand then back up at her. "What's your name?"