He finally pulled it all back into his heart, sucking in the painful tide of his misery. In the Glade, Chuck had become a symbol for him— a beacon that somehow they could make everything right again in the world. Sleep in beds. Get kissed goodnight. Have bacon and eggs for breakfast, go to a real school. Be happy.But now Chuck was gone. And his limp body, to which Thomas still clung, seemed a cold talisman— that not only would those dreams of a hopeful future never come to pass, but that life had never been that way in the first place. That even in escape, dreary days lay ahead. A life of sorrow.His returning memories were sketchy at best. But not much good floated in the muck.Thomas reeled in the pain, locked it somewhere deep inside him. He did it for Teresa. For Newt and Minho. Whatever darkness awaited them, they'd be together, and that was all that mattered right then.

I can hear the roar of women's silence

Those who would give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.

They called you the GlueThe Glue?Yeah. Probably because you're kind of the glue that holds us all together

What's going on? Newt asked, looking back and forth between Thomas and Aris. Why're you guys looking at each other like you just fell in love?