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Chapter 11

           "Chuck,begladI’mnotholdingAlby’sbowrightaboutnow."

           "I’mjustplay"

           "Shutup,Chuck.Gotosleep."Thomasjustcouldn’thandleitrightthen.

           Eventually,his"buddy"diddozeoff,andbasedontherumbleofsnoresacrosstheGlade,sodideveryoneelse.Hourslater,deepinthenight,Thomaswasstilltheonlyoneawake.Hewantedtocry,butdidn’t.HewantedtofindAlbyandpunchhim,fornoreasonwhatsoever,butdidn’t.HewantedtoscreamandkickandspitandopenuptheBoxandjumpintotheblacknessbelow.Buthedidn’t.

           Heclosedhiseyesandforcedthethoughtsanddarkimagesawayandatsomepointhefellasleep.

           ChuckhadtodragThomasoutofhissleepingbaginthemorning,draghimtotheshowers,anddraghimtothedressingrooms.Thewholetime,Thomasfeltmopeyandindifferent,hisheadaching,hisbodywantingmoresleep.Breakfastwasablur,andanhourafteritwasover,Thomascouldn’trememberwhathe’deaten.Hewassotired,hisbrainfeltlikesomeonehadgoneinandstapledittohisskullinadozenplaces.Heartburnravagedhischest.

           Butfromwhathecouldtell,napswerefrowneduponinthegiantworkingfarmoftheGlade.

           HestoodwithNewtinfrontofthebarnoftheBloodHouse,gettingreadyforhisfirsttrainingsessionwithaKeeper.Despitetheroughmorning,hewasactuallyexcitedtolearnmore,andforthechancetogethismindoffBenandthegraveyard.Cowsmooed,sheepbleated,pigssquealedallaroundhim.

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