I Have A Theory That Selflessness And

Four!" I Call Out. Why Am I Calling A Number? Oh Yes. Because That's His Name. — Tris.

His Eyes Search The Crowd Until They Find My Face. My Heartbeat Lives In My Throat; Lives In My Cheeks. "i Still Don't Understand," He Says Softly, "how She Knew That It Would Work.

He Doesn’t Scowl, But His Mouth Is So Tense That I Know He’s Angry With Me. 'don’t Be An Idiot,' He Says. 'an Idiot?' Is He Talking About The Blanket? 'you Were Lying.

That Quality Frightens Me Now, Because I Know What He Told Me: That I Was Broken, That I Was Worthless, That I Was Nothing. How Many Of Those Things Did He Make Me Believe?

I Frown At Him. How Does He Know All This Information? And Why, After Two Years Of Avoiding Becoming A Dauntless Leader At All Costs, Is He Suddenly Acting Like One?