Your Daughter Is Doing Well Here. I've

You Nearly Died Today,' He Says. 'i Almost Shot You. Why Didn't You Shoot Me, Tris?' 'i Couldn't Do That,' I Say. 'it Would Have Been Like Shooting Myself.' He Looks Pained And Leans Closer To Me, So His Lips Brush Mine When He Speaks.

My Parents Did Love Each Other. Enough To Forsake Plans And Factions. Enough To Defy “faction Before Blood.” Blood Before Faction--no, Love Before Faction, Always. - Tris Prior

He Pushes His Hair, Soaked From The Snow, Out Of His Eyes. "so What Are We Going To Do, Break A Window? Look For A Back Door?" "i'm Just Going To Walk In," I Say. "i'm Her Son." "you Also Betrayed Her And Left The City When She Forbade Anyone From Doing That," He Says, "and She Sent People After You To Stop You. People With Guns." "you Can Stay Here If You Want," I Say. "where The Serum Goes, I Go," He Says. "but If You Get Shot At, I'm Going To Grab It And Run." "i Don't Expect Anything More." He Is A Strange Sort Of Person.

The Only Reason I Haven't Shot You Yet Is Because He's The One Who Should Get To Do It," I Say. "stay Away From Him Or I'll Decide I No Longer Care.

I Feel A Thread Tugging Me Again, But This Time I Know That It Isn’t Some Sinister Force Dragging Me Toward Death. This Time I Know It’s My Mother's Hand, Drawing Me Into Her Arms. And I Go Gladly Into Her Embrace.