The Gun Goes Off. I Fall.

We Share A Common Enemy, But Does That Make Us Friends?

I See A Few Hands Stretching Out To Me At The Edge Of The Net, So I Grabbed The First One I Could Reach And Pull Myself Across. I Roll Off, And Would Have Fallen Face-first Onto A Wood Floor If He Had Not Caught Me. "he" Is The Young Man Attached To The Hand I Grabbed. He Has A Spare Upper Lip And A Full Lower Lip. His Eyes Are So Deep-set That His Eyelashes Touch The Skin Under His Eyebrows, And They Are Dark Blue, A Dreaming, Sleeping, Waiting Color.

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

I Don't Believe It Is More Important To Move Forward Than To Know The Truth.

And Now That You Are Out? How Does The World Seem To You?" He Says. "mostly The Same," I Say. "people Are Just Divided By Different Things, Fighting Different Wars.