I like to think I'm helping them by hating them. I'm reminding them that they aren't God's gift to humankind. - Veronica Roth

"There's a reason why she left them, Lauren," he says. His voice is deep, and it rumbles. "What's your name?"

"Um..." I don't know why I hesitate. But "Beatrice" just doesn't sound right anymore.

"Think about it," he says, a faint smile curling his lips. " You don't get to pick again."

A new place, a new name. I can be remade here.

"Tris," I say firmly.

"I pout my lower lip for a second, but then I grin as the pieces come together.
"That's why you like me!" I exclaim. "Because you're not very nice either! It makes so much more sense now.

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.