I Smirk As Peter Misses Again. I

No Factions? A World In Which No One Knows Who They Are Or Where They Fit? I Can't Even Fathom It. I Imagine Only Chaos And Isolation.

It Doesn't Take Skill To Stand In A Place Were No Bullets Find You, Or To Fire Into The Dark And Hit A Man You Didn't See.

Caleb And Tris Exchange A Look. The Skin On His Face And On Her Knuckles Is Nearly The Same Colour, Purple-blue-green, As If Drawn With Ink. This Is What Happens When Siblings Collide - They Injure Each Other In The Same Way.

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 Note How Calm She Looks And How Focused She Is. She Is Well-practiced In The Art Of Losing Herself. I Can't Say The Same Of Myself.