The boy's name was Minho. Now, Thomas knew at least two other names.

Minho crashed into Dr. Leavitt, his eyes locked on Thomas, filled with fear. "Don't let them do it to you!" he yelled, struggling against Leavitt, who had his arms wrapped around him. Despite his size, Minho fought desperately.

"What’s going on?" Thomas asked louder.

"They’re putting things in our heads!" Minho cried, his eyes wild. "They said it wouldn't hurt, but it does! They're lying!" His words were cut off as a nurse injected something into his neck, causing him to collapse. They dragged him down the hallway, his feet trailing behind.

Thomas turned to Leavitt. "What did they do to him?"

Leavitt, eerily calm, replied, "He's just having a reaction to the anesthesia. Nothing to worry about."

Thomas thought about running, but followed Leavitt into the room. I'm a coward, he thought. I've got nothing on that Minho kid.

The room looked like a typical hospital room. Two beds, one with the curtain drawn, hid a figure behind it. Leavitt focused on the medical equipment, leaving Thomas alone with his thoughts. Curiosity gnawed at him. I have to see who’s behind that curtain, he thought.

As Leavitt leaned closer to the screen, Thomas seized the moment. He crept toward the closed curtain, pulled it aside, and saw another boy, blond hair cropped short, eyes closed, with covers pulled up to his chin. Leavitt rushed over, grabbing Thomas and pulling him away.

But Thomas had already seen two things: the boy had a bandage with a blood spot, just like Minho. And the name on the monitor: Newt.

Now, Thomas knew three names.

But, there was a third bed that seemed taken but hidden by another curtain.