Four: A Divergent Collection (Divergent Series Story)

by Veronica Roth

I don’t care what she says—this isn’t a safe room. There are no safe rooms, no safe truths, no safe secrets to tell.

“You’re the one who has to live with your choice,” she says. “Everyone else will get over it, move on, no matter what you decide. But you never will.”

The alcohol is still burning my throat when the tattoo needle touches my ribs, and I wince, but somehow I don’t mind the pain. I relish it.

“Rule number one for not being creepy,” she says. “Announce your presence in a room if another person doesn’t see you come in.”

“How to Be Dauntless: An Introductory Course,” she says. “Lesson one: It’s okay to hug your friends here.”

Dead people can be our heroes because they can’t disappoint us later; they only improve over time, as we forget more and more about them.

“Fear doesn’t shut you down,” I say. “It wakes you up. I’ve seen it. It’s fascinating.”

She was equal to my trust, even if Marcus wasn’t. She, and her mother, and the rest of the faction she believes in, are still worth protecting. So that’s what I’m going to do.