And he’s right to say that every faction loses something when it gains a virtue: the Dauntless, brave but cruel; the Erudite, intelligent but vain; the Amity, peaceful but passive; the Candor, honest but inconsiderate; the Abnegation, selfless but stifling.

Don't you dare try to apologize." His voice shakes. "This is not something you can bandage with a word or two and some hugging, or something.

No matter how long you train someone to be brave, you never know if they are or not until something real happens.

What is it with you today?” says Christina on the way to breakfast. Her eyes are still swollen from sleep and her tangled hair forms a fuzzy halo around her face. “Oh, you know,” I say. “Sun shining. Birds chirping.” She raises an eyebrow at me, as if reminding me that we are in an underground tunnel.

I shift from one foot to the other, trying to get a good look at him. When I finally do, I look away. His eyes were already on me, probably drawn by my nervous movement.

I can’t answer either question. But the look she gives me reminds me of the look in the attack dog’s eyes in the aptitude test – a vicious, predatory stare. She wants to rip me to pieces. I can’t lie down in submission now. I have become an attack dog too.

I have discovered that sitting still leaves little spaces for the grief to get in, so I stay busy.