The First Glader

25

The corner of his mouth lifted. "Minho and Ben are set. They'll meet you at the East doors."

Ada nodded, fingers curling lightly at her sides. The familiar pre-run buzz was there—a mix of dread and control, both wrapped around the same center.

Nick's gaze softened. "You don't have to go in every week."

"Yes, I do."

He exhaled. "Because it makes you feel better."

"It makes me feel like I still know what I'm talking about," she said quietly. "I can't keep telling them where to run if I forget what it feels like."

Nick didn't argue. He just stepped a little closer, voice low. "Be careful."

"Always," she said.

He gave a short nod, then headed off toward the map room, already sorting through the day in his head.

By the time the sun had climbed a little higher, the Glade was fully awake. Boys moved back and forth with tools and buckets, the animals bleated, someone complained about latrine duty.

At the far side of the clearing, the East doors loomed—two slices of stone cut into the wall, edges humming with that low, unsettling energy Ada had never been able to name.

Minho was already there, stretching his legs and bouncing on the balls of his feet. Ben stood beside him, rolling his shoulders, jaw set in that hard line that always made him look a little older than he was.

"Took you long enough," Minho called when Ada approached.

"Some of us had responsibilities," she said.

"Running with me is a privilege, not a responsibility," Minho said, hand over his heart.

Ben snorted. "You're insufferable."

"And yet you follow me into the giant murder puzzle every day," Minho shot back.

Ada shook her head, smile small but real. Ben's mouth twitched.

Chuck came skidding up a moment later, panting. "I made it!"

Ada looked him over. "You smell like smoke."

"That means I worked hard," he said defensively.

"That means Frypan nearly killed him," Minho said. "Kid almost put salt in the oil."

Chuck scowled. "They look the same!"

"They really don't," Ada muttered.

"Are you seriously gonna go in there?" Chuck asked, gaze dragging up to the Maze. "Just... like... on purpose?"

"Yes," Ada said.

"Why?"

"Because someone has to," Minho said. "And I'm too handsome to die, so she's coming to protect me."

Ada elbowed him in the ribs. "You're going in front."

"Obviously," he said.

Ben tightened the strap of the small pack on his back. "We taking standard route, or you want to test something?"

"Standard," Ada said. "No experiments on my weekly run."

Minho groaned. "You're no fun."

Chuck stepped closer to Ada, voice small. "You'll come back, right?"

She looked down at him. The fear behind his eyes was the same as the fear she'd seen in a hundred boys, but it still hit her like a fist.

"Yes," she said simply. "I always do."