“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.”

“Tris," Tobias says, crouching next to me. His face is pale, almost yellow.There is too much I want to say. The first thing that comes out is, "Beatrice."He laughs weakly."Beatrice," he amends, and touches his lips to mine. I curl my fingers into his shirt.”

“Tris," a low voice says behind me. I don't know why it doesn't startle me. Maybe because I am becoming Dauntless, and mental readiness is something I'm supposed to develop. Maybe because his voice is low and smooth and almost soothing. Whatever the reason over my shoulder. Four stands behind me with his gun slung across his back, just like mine. "Yes?" I say. "I came to find out what you think you're doing." "I'm seeking higher ground," I say. "I don't think I'm doing anything." I see his smile in the dark. "All right. I'm coming." I pause a second. He doesn't look at me the way Will, Christina, and Al sometimes do- like I am too small and too weak to be any use, and they pity me for it. But if he insists on coming with me, it is probably because he doubts me.”

“What's your name?Um...Think about it. You don't get to pick again.Tris.”

“Tobias," I say anyway. My hands shake, but not from fear this time– from anger. "Where is he? What are you doing to him?""I see no reason to provide that information," says Jeanine...I make my voice flat and factual, like hers. "I see no reason to provide that information."I hear a faint snort. Peter is covering his mouth. Jeanine glares at him, and his laughter effortlessly transforms into a coughing fit."Mockery is childish, Beatrice," she says. "It does not become you.""Mockery is childish, Beatrice," I repeat in my best imitation of her voice. "It does not become you."”

“You nearly died today,' he says. 'I almost shot you. Why didn't you shoot me, Tris?''I couldn't do that,' I say. 'It would have been like shooting myself.'He looks pained and leans closer to me, so his lips brush mine when he speaks.”

“I don't..." He gasps. "I don't really want to talk about it anymore.""Okay.Then...I can talk. Ask me something.""Okay." He laughs shakily in my ear. "Why is your heart racing, Tris?"I cringe and say, "Well,I..." I search for an excuse that doesn't involve his arms being around me. "I barely know you." Not good enough. "I barely know you and I'm crammed against you in a box,Four,what do you think?""If we were in your fear landscape," he says, "would I be in it?""I'm not afraid of you.""Of course you're not.But that's not what I meant."He laughs again,and when he does,the walls break apart with a crack and fall away,leaving us in a circle of light. Four sighs and lifts his arms from my body. I scramble to my feet and brush myself off,though I haven't accumulated any dirt that I'm aware of. I wipe my palms on my jeans. My back feels cold from the sudden absence of him.He stands in front of me. He's grinning, and I'm not sure I like the look in his eyes."Maybe you were cut out for Candor," he says, "because you're a terrible liar.”