Be brave, Beatrice. I love you.

I wonder how I seem to them. They must see someone I don't see. Someone capable and strong. Someone I can't be; someone I can be.

Beatrice," she says. "Beatrice, we have to run." She pulls my arm across her shoulders and hauls me to my feet. She is dressed like my mother and she looks like my mother, but she is holding a gun, and the determined look in her eyes is unfamiliar to me.

We don't know what's happened out there since they put us in here, or how many generations have lived and died since they did.We could be the last people left.

I hold the gun out from my body, my arms straight, just as Four taught me, when that was his only name. I used a gun like this to defend my father and brother from simulation-bound Dauntless. I used it to stop Eric from shooting Tobias in the head. It is not inherently evil. It is just a tool.

It doesn't prove anything except that you're bullying us. Which, as I recall, is a sign of cowardice.

You chose us. Now we have to choose you.