Every Question That Can Be Answered Must

Why Do People Want To Pretend That Death Is Sleep? It Isn't. It Isn't.

"what Did You Do?” This Time The Question Tears From My Throat Like A Growl. I Throw Myself Toward Him. “what Did You Do?” I Scream. “you Die, I Die Too. I Asked You Not To Do This. You Made Your Decision. These Are The Repercussions."

Blood Is A Strange Color. It's Darker Than You Expect It To Be.

He Leans His Face Close To Mine And Wraps His Fingers Around My Chin. His Hand Smells Like Metal. When Was The Last Time He Held A Gun, Or A Knife?

I Have A Message For The Divergent" I Am Divergent. "this Is Not A Negotiation" No, It Is Not. "it Is A Warning" I Understand. "every Two Days Until One Of You Delivers Yourself To Erudite Headquarters . . ." I Will. " . . . This Will Happen Again" It Will Never Happen Again.