It was you and me, Tom. We did this to them. To us.

Sometimes they do things to make me do the opposite of what they think, I think, they think, I am going to do.

Listen,' Thomas said, slowly getting to his feet, hoping Minho wouldn’t be stupid enough to try anything. “There’s something about us. We’re not just random shanks who showed up on your doorstep. We’re valuable. Alive, not dead.” The anger on Jorge’s face lessened ever so slightly. Maybe a spark of curiosity. But what he said was 'What’s a shank?

Tomorrow," Minho added. "Somehow, some way.

Though he’d never know for sure what had happened to them, his mind was super talented at imagining the absolute worst.

He didn't care about the others anymore. The chaos around him seemed to siphon away his humanity, turn him into an animal. All he wanted was to survive, make it to that building, get inside. Live. Gain another day.

Can you do that?” Thomas asked. “Huh?” “Kill someone three times.” “I’d figure out a way.