For three days no one has brought Newt in to have his wounds bandaged. I hope that what I said to him the last time he was here helped him, but I know that's too easy. Something else must be going on, he wouldn't just stop altogether like that.

At dinner I walk over to where Minho is sitting and join him. "Hey, Minho," I say.

"Hey, y/n. Something wrong?" he asks.

"Yeah. Um, how's Newt?"

Minho puts down his fork and looks at me. "You're worried too?"

"You haven't taken him to me in three days."

"Yeah, I haven't seen him... um... injured."

"This can't be how it works."

"I've been think about it and you're right, he wouldn't just stop out of the blue. I'm worried about him."

"Do you have any idea what's going on with him?"

"At first I thought he had just found a new place to... hurt himself, but I checked with him and nothing. Something isn't right here."

"We need to do something, but I don't-" I stop when we hear someone sit down.