In Some Parts Of The Ancient World,

I Love You." He Frowns. "say It Again." "tobias," I Say. "i Love You.

I Hear Footsteps And Four's Hands Wrap Around My Wrists. I Let Him Pry My Hands From My Eyes. He Encloses One Of My Hands Perfectly Between Two Of His. The Warmth Of His Skin Overwhelms The Ache In My Fingers From Holding The Bars. "you All Right?" He Asks, Pressing Our Hands Together. "yeah." He Starts To Laugh.

Caleb Runs Up To Me And Folds Me Carefully In His Arms. I Breathe A Sigh Of Relief. I Thought I Had Gotten To The Point Where I Didn’t Need My Brother Anymore, But I Don’t Think Such A Point Actually Exists.

'divergent' Was My Utopian World. I Mean, That Wasn't The Plan. I Never Even Set Out To Write Dystopian Fiction, That's Just What I Had When I Was Finished. At The Beginning, I Was Just Writing About A Place I Found Interesting And A Character With A Compelling Story, And As I Began To Build The World, I Realized That It Was My Utopia.

It's Not Cruelty, Maybe, But A Desire To Understand That Motivates Them.