❪ 008 ❫. knife to your throat

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008. knife to your throat

  knife to your throat

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BY NIGHTFALL, QUINN WAS GROWING EXHAUSTED IN BEING DRAGGED AROUND FOR MILES THROUGH THE WOODS. Murphy had tied her hands together during the search for Charlotte, making it harder for Quinn to think of an escape plan. Kinsley and the other boys that joined Murphy's side would take turns keeping a grip on the girl's forearm, hauling Quinn with them despite her attempts to struggle.

        Never had Quinn become self-aware of her lack of strength, yet right now, she hated herself for how weak she seemed. She wasn't the strongest competitor, laughing at her attempts to put up a fight. Quinn tripped over her feet, almost catapulting to the ground if it wasn't for Kinsley continuing to hold her up, groaning as she brought the girl back to her feet. Murphy glanced back at the sounds, meeting Kinsley's eyes. The West girl nodded her head, pushing Quinn in front.

         Once Quinn watched Murphy turn back around, holding the fire post for a source of light and continuing his search, the McKenna girl took it as her time to get through Kinsley. If Clarke had been rightif Bellamy was rightthen Quinn had to at least try to make Kinsley listen to her. "What will happen to Charlotte if you do find her?" She asked, eyeing Kinsley closely as best she could whilst being kept in front.

         Kinsley ignored Quinn at first, diverting her attention to anything other than Quinn. The brunette examined the West girl, slightly noticing the glint of regret laced in her eyes. At least, that's what Quinn thought it to be. Again, she repeated her question, which made Kinsley groan in annoyance. "I don't know yet," she stubbornly answered. "It's up to Murphy what happens with the girl."

         Quinn frowned when she noticed how Kinsley hadn't been able to say Charlotte's name aloud. Instead, she continued to refer to her as 'the girl' when she did know her name. A sign of guilt, maybe. "Kinsley," she softly spoke, dragging her feet as they walked. "She's twelve years old. She deserves another chance, no matter what she did." Kinsley scoffed, biting her tongue on wanting to respond. "Kinsley, please."

         "But if John was the killer, no one would have stepped in to help him from being hung." Her tone was vicious, cutting into Quinn. "Everyone is so forgiving when it comes to her, but not him. How the fuck is that fair, hmm? Since you're supposed to be the nice and innocent girl, tell me, does any of that make sense?"

         Quinn turned, stopping in her tracks. Kinsley slightly raised her brows at the girl's actions, yet she hadn't made an effort to turn her around and order her to keep moving. "I didn't want Murphy to be hanged, Kinsley." Kinsley seemed to hold a look of doubt on her face. "Please. You have to believe me on that. Kinsley, you might see me as one of the privileged, but we were all sent down here to die. I don't know about you, but I think that gives us all a good reason to stick together. Help each other out," persuaded Quinn.

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