Fine," He Says. "then I Love You.

I Suppose Everything Is Bound To Look Different When You Aren't On Your Way To Die.

Why Would The Factionless Have A High Divergent Population?" It Sounds Like She's Smirking. "obviously Those Who Can't Confine Themselves To A Particular Way Of Thinking Would Be Most Likely To Leave A Faction Or Fail Its Initiation, Right?

I Have A Message For The Divergent" I Am Divergent. "this Is Not A Negotiation" No, It Is Not. "it Is A Warning" I Understand. "every Two Days Until One Of You Delivers Yourself To Erudite Headquarters . . ." I Will. " . . . This Will Happen Again" It Will Never Happen Again.

The Floor Is Solid Metal In Some Places And Metal Grating In Others. Everything Smells Like Rotting Garbage And Fire. "don't Say I Never Took You Anywhere Nice," Peter Says. "wouldn't Dream Of It," I Say.

Somewhere Inside Me Is A Merciful, Forgiving Person. Somewhere There Is A Girl Who Tries To Understand What People Are Going Through, Who Accepts That People Do Evil Things And That Desperation Leads Them To Darker Places Than They Ever Imagined, I Swear She Exists, And She Hurts For The Repentant Boy I See In Front Of Me. But If I Saw Her, I Wouldn't Recognize Her.