People, even genetically damaged people, make choices. That’s what matters.’
He pulls me over the railing and against his chest, gathering me into his arms, easing an arm under my knees. I press my face into his shoulder, and there is a sudden, hollow silence.
Morning," I say. "Shh," she says. "If you don't acknowledge it, maybe it will go away.
The Candor sing the praises of the truth, but they never tell you how much it costs.
God Tris, are you even human?
Sometimes I see him as just another person, and sometimes I feel the sight of him in my gut, like a deep ache.