"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."

The gun goes off. I fall.

Can I be forgiven for all I've done to get here? I want to be. I can. I believe it.

I used to go outside every day and invent these elaborate worlds and scenarios in my head, and when I grew too old for playing pretend, I started to write everything down instead.

Take away someone’s fear, or low intelligence, or dishonesty . . . and you take away their compassion. Take away someone’s aggression and you take away their motivation, or their ability to assert themselves. Take away their selfishness and you take away their sense of self-preservation.

Fine," he says. "Then I love you.

Whoa there, Tobias," says the man to my left. "Weren't you raised a Stiff? I thought the most you people did was... graze hands or something." "Then how do you explain all the Abnegation children?" Tobias raises his eyebrows. "They are brought into being by sheer force of will," the woman on the arm of the chair interjects. "Didn't you know that, Tobias?" "No, I wasn't aware." He grins. "My apologies.