I notice, however, that Peter only pretends to inject himself—when he presses the plunger down, the fluid runs down his throat, and he wipes it casually with a sleeve. I wonder what it feels like to volunteer to forget everything.

What's this about flashing underwear?" says Uriah, sidestepping a bunk. "Whatever it is, I'm in.

I am fed up. I am fed up with tears and weakness. But there isn't much I can do to stop them.

His hand touches my waist, steadies me. The touch sends a shock through my body, and all my insides burn like his fingers ignited them. I pull close to him, pressing my body against his, and lift my head to kiss him.

Pride is what killed Al, and it is the flaw in every Dauntless heart. It is in mine.

My Tris should look pale and small--she is pale and small, after all--but instead the room is full of her.

Color fills her cheeks, and I think it again: that Johanna Reyes might still be beautiful. Except now I think that she isn't just beautiful in spite of the scar, she's somehow beautiful with it, like Lynn with her buzzed hair, like Tobias with the memories of his father's cruelty that he wears like armor, like my mother in her plain gray clothing.