The doctor runs a few tests on Katherine, then rummages through her supplies and fills a syringe with liquid from a small tube. The sight of the needle sends a jolt of unease through Katherine.

"Wait, what's that?" she asks, her voice tight.

"Just a little cocktail," the doctor replies. "Calcium, folate, vitamins A through Z. Pretty much everything you've been deprived of out there."

Katherine’s gaze lingers on the syringe, her pulse quickening. She exhales sharply. "Fine. Go for it."

"Try to relax," the doctor says, dabbing her skin with alcohol.

Katherine winces as the needle pierces her arm, a sharp sting followed by a dull ache. She grits her teeth, forcing herself to stay still. When the doctor pulls the syringe away, leaving a faint itch behind, she flexes her fingers. "You sure that’s enough?"

"You're good to go," the doctor reassures her with a small smile.

Sliding off the bed, Katherine gives Teresa a quick nod as she takes her place for her own check-up. Katherine finds a seat nearby, watching her friend with a mix of worry and exhaustion. She’s about to close her eyes for a moment when a guard strides in and stops in front of her.

"Katherine?" he says.

She straightens, frowning. "Yeah?"

"Come with me, please."

Katherine shoots a questioning glance at Teresa, who meets her gaze with a flicker of concern, then rises to follow the guard. He leads her through the dimly lit corridor until they reach a small room. The door swings open, revealing a boy sitting on a chair, lost in thought.

"Tommy," she breathes out, relief flooding her voice as she steps inside.

Thomas looks up, his expression softening at the sight of her. "Hey."

She sinks into the chair next to him, her hand finding his shoulder. "You okay?" she asks, her voice low and full of concern.

He gives a small nod, his gaze distant. "Yeah… I just… What do you think happened to the Gladers who stayed behind?"

The question catches Katherine off guard. She hasn’t let herself dwell on that yet; her mind has been too tangled up in Newt’s kiss, the feel of his lips lingering on her skin. She swallows and shrugs. "I don’t know. But based on how many of us died getting here, I wouldn't want to be one of them. Grievers are probably crawling all over the place."

"You think we're safe with these people?" Thomas presses, his brow furrowing.

Katherine hesitates, but forces herself to meet his eyes. "Yeah, I think we’re safe."

Thomas opens his mouth to respond, but the door swings open again, and Janson strolls in with that familiar smugness plastered across his face.

"Thomas, Katherine, thank you for seeing me," he begins, dragging a chair over and sitting down across from them. "Sorry for the inconvenience. I just thought we might chat in private, away from the others."

Katherine’s fingers curl slightly against the chair. There's something unsettling about his demeanor, like a cat toying with a mouse.

Janson leans back, his eyes studying their faces. "I only have one question. What do you remember about WICKED?"

Thomas and Katherine exchange a wary look. There’s a heavy silence before Thomas answers. "I remember Kat and I used to work for WICKED. I remember they sent us into the maze. I remember watching my friends die in front of me. I’m on their side."

Janson’s gaze shifts to Katherine, clearly expecting her to speak as well.

She takes a steadying breath. "I’m always following my brother's lead. I know he always chooses what he thinks is best."

"Interesting," Janson murmurs, his smirk never faltering. "Thomas said you two worked for WICKED, but they sent you into the maze. Why would they do that?"

Thomas’s jaw tightens. "I don’t know."

Katherine’s voice is cool as she adds, "Maybe you should’ve asked them before you killed them all."

Janson lets out a short laugh and stands. "I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Enjoy the rest of your stay."

"That's it?" Katherine blurts out, her suspicion sharpening.

"You told me everything I needed to know." Janson pauses at the door, his eyes lingering on Katherine. "You and your friends are all cleared to join the others. Soon, you’ll be moving on to greener pastures. And I expect decency. No funny business."

Katherine stiffens, a cold shock shooting through her. Is he talking about her and Newt? How does he know? She barely regains her composure as Thomas’s voice breaks the silence.

"Wait. Others?"

The guard leads the twins down a long hallway to a bustling cafeteria. The room is filled with teens, chatting and laughing over trays of food. Katherine’s eyes dart across the room, taking in the unfamiliar faces.

"What is this place?" she murmurs, just as Minho appears.

"Hey, guys!" Minho calls, a grin lighting up his face.

"Minho, what’s going on?" Thomas asks, bewilderment etched on his features.

Minho jerks his head toward a table in the corner. "We weren’t the only maze. Come on, I’ll show you."

He leads them over to where Newt, Frypan, and Winston are deep in conversation with two boys they haven’t seen before.

"And then there was this huge explosion," one boy is saying, his voice animated. "These guys came out of nowhere, started shooting up the place. It was chaos. They pulled us out of the maze and brought us here."

Katherine sneaks up behind Newt, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing a kiss to his cheek. His eyes light up with warmth and surprise, a smile tugging at his lips as he turns to face her.

As she slides in between Newt and Thomas, she notices the absence of Teresa. Her heart gives a nervous flutter, but she brushes it off, hoping her friend is fine.

"What about the others?" Newt asks the boy. "The people left behind in the maze—what happened to them?"

The boy shrugs helplessly. "I don’t know. I guess WICKED still has them."

"How long have you guys been here?" Katherine asks, her voice edged with curiosity.

"Not long. Just a day or two," the boy replies, then nods toward a pair of twins sitting far from the others. "Those two have been here the longest. Almost a week. Their maze was full of girls."

The other boy chuckles. "Some guys have all the luck."

Katherine rolls her eyes and steals a strip of bacon from Newt's plate, just as Janson enters the cafeteria with a notepad in hand, two guards trailing behind him.

"You know the drill," he announces. "If your name is called, please join my colleagues behind me. You’ll be escorted to the eastern wing. Your new lives are about to begin."

The room buzzes with eager anticipation as he reads out a list of names. Kids rise from their seats, excitement and relief evident in their eyes. But as Janson closes his notepad, disappointment ripples through the remaining teens.

"Now, now, don't get discouraged. If I could take more, I would. There's always tomorrow. Your time will come. Go on, eat up," Janson assures them before walking out, the selected kids trailing eagerly behind him. The door swings shut with a metallic clang, leaving a murmur of disappointment in the air.

"Where are they taking them?" Minho asks, the question hanging in the uneasy silence.

"Far from here," one of the boys replies with a scoff. "Some kind of farm. A safe place. Only a few people get to go at a time. Lucky bastards."

Thomas suddenly bolts upright, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. "What the hell?" he mutters, eyes locking onto the glass windows.

Katherine’s gaze snaps toward the same spot, heart dropping at the sight of Teresa being led down the hallway, surrounded by guards. Her expression is vacant, steps steady but unwilling, like she’s being pulled by an invisible leash.

"Teresa? Teresa!" Thomas yells, panic cracking his voice as he lunges for the door. Katherine is right behind him, her pulse pounding in her ears.

Before they can reach the handle, a guard steps in front of them, shoving Thomas back with a firm hand. "Hey, hey, hey," he says, blocking their path. "Calm down."

Thomas’s face twists in frustration, eyes darting between the guard and the retreating figure of Teresa. "Where are they taking her?" His voice trembles, barely restrained.

The guard's tone remains annoyingly even. "Just a few more tests. Nothing to worry about."

Katherine's jaw tightens as dread coils in her stomach. She can’t shake the feeling that something is very, very wrong. "Is she okay?" she presses, her voice strained with suspicion.

"She's fine," the guard insists, but Katherine catches the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes—a glimmer that betrays his calm facade.

Katherine’s eyes narrow with suspicion. Something feels wrong, and her gut tells her it’s only just begun.