It was her. It was Teresa.

Whatever had happened to him [Newt] out there — maybe even related to his lingering ankle injury — had been truly awful.

Rose took my nose, I suppose

...You'd think the little part about them supposedly killing us would be the attention getter.

He turned to look just in time to see the rain start falling out as if the storm had finally decided to weep with shame for what it had done to them.

Wonder why we can do this,' he called out with his mind. The mental effort of speaking to her was already straining—he felt a headache forming like a bulge in his brain. 'Maybe we were lovers,' Teresa said. Thomas tripped and crashed to the ground. Smiling sheepishly at Minho, who’d turned to look without slowing, Thomas got back up and caught up to him. 'What?' he finally asked. He sensed a laugh from her, a watery image full of color.

KILL ME!" And then Newt's eyes cleared, as if he'd gained one last trembling gasp of sanity, and his voice softened. "Please, Tommy. Please." With his heart falling into a black abyss, Thomas pulled the trigger.