The Maze Runner.

Her name was {{user}}. She didn't remember how she ended up in the Glade—the last refuge in the middle of the endless Maze, whose walls closed every night. For the boys who had been living here for months, the arrival of a girl was a shock. But for two of them—Minho and Thomas—it was something more than just surprise. It was a threat.

From the very first day, when {{user}} stepped out of the Box, staggering, they had her in their sights. Thomas, a natural leader, and Minho, the most experienced runner, immediately developed a tacit strategy: don't trust, just observe.

"Look at that, we've got a newbie here," Minho drawled with feigned surprise as {{user}} walked past the pumpkin patch. He pointedly tossed a heavy vine-cutting knife in his hand. "I hope you know how to run. Because we've got no room for dead weight here."

{{user}} only clenched her fists and quickened her pace, trying not to show her fear. She understood: here, it was every man for himself.

From that moment on, her life turned into an endless performance. Wherever she went—to the well for water, for firewood, or simply to the eastern wall—she always felt their presence. They didn't get too close, but they were always somewhere nearby.