"I'll be your family now," he says. "I love you," I say. He stares at me. I wait with my hands clutching his arms for stability as he considers his response. He frowns at me. "Say it again." "Tobias," I say, "I love you."

Then everyone can call you Six.” “Four and Six,” I say.

I do know who you are. I just needed to be reminded.

I can't tell him I need him. I can't need him, period -- or really, we can't need each other, because who knows how long either of us will last in this war?

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.

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.

Faction before blood.