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Rolling her eyes as she closely follows the other boys, Blake brushes past Teresa and slowly creeps into the small hut. Wide emerald orbs snap around the small shack as she steps to the side beside Minho, furrowing her eyebrows as her dainty arms cross over her chest.
"Has he said anything?" Newt questions, lifting his worried gaze from Alby to land on Teresa, who fidgets, nervously picking at the skin around her nails.
"No." Teresa shakes her head, shifting uncomfortably under Blake's glare.
Tearing her emeralds away from the other girl, Blake's eyes soften as she looks over to Alby, sitting at the edge of the bed with his arms crossed over his chest, staring blankly at the wall.
"Alby?" Newt softly questions, taking a step forward. "Alby, are you alright?"
After a long minute of silence, Alby lifts his shaking hand up to his cheek and wipes away a tear. "We can't—We can't leave."
Furrowing her eyebrows, Blake snaps her orbs around the room, unconsciously meeting Thomas's confused gaze, somewhat mirroring her own.
"They won't let us." Alby shakes his head, sighing to try to calm himself down.
"What are you talking about?" Thomas questions softly, bending down to Alby's level to try and comfort the boy.
"I remember." Alby replies to the boy, not looking him in the eye as he keeps his gaze on the wall in front of him.
"What do you remember?" Thomas shakes his head curiously.
"You."
"You were always their favorite, Thomas." Alby snaps his glazed orbs to the green-eyed girl above him—who shifts uncomfortably at the thought of someone remembering things she couldn't. "So was Blake."
Letting her face scrunch at the revelation, Blake shakes her head as her gaze connects with Thomas'. 𝘐𝘧𝘐𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘸𝘩𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘐𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘦?
