I point at a window to my left, and it explodes. Particles of glass rain over us. ‘You’ll have to do better than that,' I say.

I glance at Tris. She grins at me, then leans in to whisper something to Christina. "Are you here to help or what, Stiff?" I say.

It isn't the height that scares me - the height makes me feel alive with energy, every organ and vessel and muscle in my body singing at the same pitch. Then I realize what it is. It's him. Something about him makes me feel like I am about to fall. Or turn to liquid. Or burst into flames.

If you actually succeed in creating a utopia, you've created a world without conflict, in which everything is perfect. And if there's no conflict, there are no stories worth telling - or reading!

A brave man acknowledges the strength of others.

It's when you're acting selflessly that you are at your bravest." --Four in Divergent

A sob racks my body again, and he wraps his arms around me so tightly I find it difficult to breathe, but it doesn't matter. My dignified weeping gives way to full-on ugliness, my mouth open and my face contorted and sounds like a dying animal coming from my throat. If this continues I will break apart, and maybe that would be better, maybe it would be better to shatter and bear nothing.