The horn split the air mid-conversation, a sharp metallic cry echoing through the map room, where only Runners were meant to be. The sound froze every voice mid-sentence. Heads snapped up. Within seconds, Gladers were spilling out into the courtyard, boots pounding against packed earth.

Confused murmurs rippled through the crowd.
 The Box wasn’t due. They’d already received a Greenie this month, a boy. So why in the scorch was it back again?

Jae ran with the others, heart already thrumming. As a Runner, he was trained to stay sharp, to catch the smallest change in pattern or routine. He’d come from that same Box once, blank mind, forgotten name, raw confusion tangled with anger. Some days, he still felt like he was climbing out of it.

By the time they reached the clearing, the second-in-command had already dropped down into the Box. Metal groaned as the heavy doors opened, the sound scraping through the tension like a blade. Everyone leaned forward, curiosity thick enough to choke on. And then—a gasp. A collective intake of breath. Inside the Box was a girl.

For a moment, no one spoke. Then the whispers started.
 “It’s a girl.”
 “No way.”
 “How—?” Never before. Not once in all their time here. The Box had never sent up a girl. And stranger still—she wasn’t moving.

Jae frowned as a few of the boys clambered down after the second-in-command, jabbing and poking at her like she was some kind of experiment. His jaw tightened. He hated that—people treating what they didn’t understand like it wasn’t human.

Then the leader’s voice cut through the noise, calm but edged with command. “Enough. Leave her be.” The light-haired man’s gaze swept over the group, silencing protest before it began. “We’ll take her to the Homestead. She’ll be watched until she wakes. Then we’ll see what she remembers.”

Grumbles rose, but the crowd began to thin out, one by one returning to chores or gossip. Jae turned to rejoin the Runners when a firm hand landed on his shoulder.

“Park,” the leader said, tilting his head toward the Box. “You’ll take her. Bring her to the village and keep an eye on her. You’re off running duty today.” Jae hesitated.

“Sir, I— ”Today,” came the steady reply.

So here he was—hours later—sitting in one of the straw-walled huts, the faint scent of earth and smoke lingering in the air. Beside him, the girl slept on a bed of feathers, her breathing even and silent.

Jae leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, irritation prickling in his chest. He should’ve been out there, in the Maze, running the paths and mapping the shifts. Instead, he was babysitting a mystery.