THE HEARTS » TMR [1]

05. Fear of Loss

Margaret felt as if the world had stopped moving for a few seconds. Thomas was trapped inside the Maze. She slowly let go of Chuck and took a deep breath. That was most likely the last time she'd see Thomas. . .

    "She did it!" Someone yelled at her. And that someone was none other than Gally himself. Margaret turned to her left to see him pointing at her, as if he'd found the root of the problem. "You—girl, shank—told him to run inside. You did this!"

    Margaret couldn't believe what was currently happening. Gally was blaming her for Thomas running into the Maze. How could it be her fault? She didn't say a single word to him. And, even if she did, she would tell him to do the complete opposite. She'd never want Thomas to get hurt.

    Never.

    "Whoa, Gally, how is this her fault?" Newt said, putting his hand in front of his chest.

    "I saw her and Thomas. She told him to run inside. Newt—believe me when I say this—she's here to mess up everything. She should be punished!" Gally's eyes were on fire, and his face was filled with rage. He didn't care for Margaret in the least.

    Margaret stood up for herself. "Look, Eyebrows, I don't know what your problem is with me, but I didn't say a single word to him. And I didn't even get the chance to stop him from running into that maze!" Anger flooded through her system. Her blood was boiling. She was on the verge of exploding.

    He shook his head, his arms crossed. Newt looked at Margaret with an apologetic look. She could feel Chuck standing right behind her, watching the scene unfold. Margaret took a firm stance, demonstrating that she was not intimidated by Gally.

    Newt sighed. "Gally, this isn't her fault."

    Gally looked at Newt, then back at Margaret. "You really trust this girl—shank or whatever?"

    Newt locked his gaze on Margaret. "I do." He was certain of it.

    Gally shook his head and pointed at Margaret. "You don't fool me, girlie. It'd be better if you went inside the Maze," he said, then stomped off to the hammocks.

    Margaret's rage had been replaced by affliction, causing her eyes to water. She'd never imagined that someone would despise her so much, that they'd want her dead inside the Maze. Despite the fact that she barely knew Gally, the words he spoke were enough to hurt her, to break her down. Chuck approached from behind, holding Margaret's hand, in an attempt to console her. She thanked him with a weak smile. Wiping her teary eyes, Margaret looked at Newt.

    "Thank you, Newt," she said. She was relieved that someone else had stood up for her, knowing that she wasn't to blame for anything. Newt gave a nod. She returned her gaze to the stone walls, which were tightly sealed together.

    There was a pause.

    "What a bloody idiot," Newt muttered. "He couldn't have just stayed and avoided the bloody Maze, could he?" He ran a hand through his blonde hair in fraught.

    "But he'll be fine though. R-Right?" Margaret nervously stuttered. "Newt?"

    Newt shook his head. He had an emotionless expression on his face when he said, "No one survives a night in the Maze."

    Margaret's lips were slightly parted. She was about to say something—a question—but instead she kept her mouth shut and sat on the grass in front of the Doors. Chuck and Newt exchanged a puzzled look before doing the same thing as the rest of the Gladers. They were just going to sit like that until Thomas returned.

❦

It was already dusk. Margaret was still sitting in the same position as before. Others went back to their hammocks, while others went back to work. Newt, Chuck, and a few other Gladers were still sitting on the ground. None of them even bothered to strike up a conversation which was fine with Margaret because there was nothing to talk about. They'd just experienced it.