"I really thought you were the one."
Jeanine Matthews was never sentimental about things, but she knew there would be an exception. She only looked at the girl as the perfect test subject, the perfect specimen, and the girl was supposed to be just that. But beyond it all, she knew there had always been something else entirely.
No other Divergent could pass all five sims. No other Divergent could be brave, selfless, intelligent, peaceful, and honest all at the same time. No other person could have endured through so much, but she knew that wasn't all.
"We'll just have to resume our search."
This couldn't have been it. This couldn't really be happening.
Beatrice Prior was the perfect test subject, brave and selfless and intelligent all at the same time, and even honest or peaceful if she tried hard enough. Jeanine knew it more than anyone; she had seen it with her own two eyes.
She had seen the girl fight the urge to fight, she had seen the girl give it all up just for the truth to be set free.
Beatrice Prior was the perfect test subject, but she knew that wasn't it.
She knew that wasn't the only reason she felt this way. She knew that wasn't the only reason why she felt grief at the loss of the girl. She had watched Beatrice Prior grow up, and even when Beatrice was under that truth serum in Candor, Jeanine saw it. She was always watching the girl. If not for the reason of caution, or observation, then it would have been because she did take a liking to the girl.
How could she not? Wasn't that how she, herself, was once?
Well, no. Jeanine had never been daring, or peaceful to the point that she would despise conflict even when it is obviously necessary. She was only honest when she saw fit, whenever it came to matters that were rather light and transparent, and she was only ever selfless when she knew it would benefit her. She was only ever selfless if she would be giving up herself - her sanity, her humanity, and the awful thing she had to possess called human nature - for the sake of knowledge, and now, power.
The one definite thing she ever could have been was curious. Endlessly curious, and relentless in her pursuit of knowledge.
She was Erudite through and through, nothing more, nothing less.
And yet, why would she take a liking to a girl from Abnegation, a Divergent nonetheless?
She had thought her emotions gave way long ago, when she had given it up for more knowledge to quench her curiosity and search for answers. Even when she started to observe the daughter of Andrew Prior, she had thought that her emotions, if not long gone, were repressed enough to be capable only of the slightest feeling.
But she was wrong. And she had known for a long time, but Jeanine Matthews hated to be wrong.
Beatrice Prior was one of a kind; she was special. Jeanine has always known that, even when she first saw the baby in the picture of her registration file.
The girl had always fascinated her in an obsessing way. If she was not caught up with her research on Divergents, Beatrice Prior drove her insane with interest. The girl intrigued her so much, that she could not sleep unless she knew the girl was asleep too. She would wake up in the middle of the night when she heard the faintest sobs of a nightmare-shaken girl, and she could not get a wink of sleep until she knew the girl had been comforted, until she knew Beatrice was rocked back to sleep.
For years she had told herself it was only because the child's waking moments were the perfect time for observation, but she knew it was something else entirely.
On Beatrice's first day of school, she had wished she was the teacher who taught the girl instead. Clearly she would have been better at educating the girl, especially when Beatrice was obviously ahead of everyone else in her class. (Luckily, the girl inherited her father's intelligence.) Jeanine told herself it was only because the girl would have been more of an outstanding specimen to observe if Beatrice was educated much more highly, but she knew it was something else entirely.
And the days went on, Beatrice growing up and Jeanine watching her every moment she could, whenever no one was looking.
Those were the only moments the woman felt like she was not the leader of the Erudite faction, nor a supposedly emotionless human being. Those were the only moments when she would let herself smile, or feel anything at all, for she knew Beatrice Prior was not just a test subject anymore, but the girl had progressed into becoming more than that to her.
The girl became irreplaceable as time crept on. Whether it had been because of her value as a pure, one hundred percent Divergent that became the best subject for opening the box Andrew and Natalie Prior have been keeping, or because of something else, Beatrice Prior was not someone who could be replaced by another being.
And that was why Jeanine was struck with frustration and annoyance when the girl couldn't be brought back, when the girl just hung there unmoving.
She couldn't bear it. It was just a joke, wasn't it? A cruel, heartless, cold, and bitter joke.
Jeanine had to see for herself if this was really the truth. So she stepped in the chamber, and there in front of her was the body of Beatrice Prior.
And finally, after so long, she gave in to herself.
"I really thought you were the one."
And maybe she was. Besides, no one else had ever broken through her like this, not even Andrew Prior or Evelyn Johnson. No one else had ever brought out this side of her, and at times she couldn't even believe this was still her.
Everything was quiet. No one dared make a sound.
Caleb Prior had exited the observation room a few seconds ago, surely to get inside the testing chamber to at least get a glimpse of his sister without having a large pane of glass standing between them. Peter, on the other hand, should be off with the other guards to get the mobile bed for the girl's dead body.
But whether or not anyone was watching, she didn't even care, because in that moment, she felt as if her heart was ripped out of her chest, and after years of denial, she had finally gotten enough courage to admit it.
I love her. I love Beatrice Prior.
She closed her eyes, and beyond the residual light that was captured behind her eye lids, she could see everything. She could see Beatrice's first steps, her smile, her hypnotizing blue gaze amidst the darkness of the night. She could hear her first words, her laughter, her late night sobs and cries. She could remember the worry when Beatrice had nightmares, how she wished she had been Natalie, how she had wished it was her instead that calmed Beatrice down. How she had wished she could have been the one to sleep with Beatrice cuddled into her, revelling in her warmth and falling asleep beside her with a smile.
She let the feeling consume her, before she knew it would be too late. Happiness, knowing Beatrice could now walk on her own. Sadness, knowing Beatrice felt chained and caged in a faction where her freedom was taken away from her. Worry, knowing Beatrice's fever was constantly rising ever since she came home. Agitated, knowing that Beatrice could not have gotten that part in the outreach program for the Factionless just because the other girl was cheerier than her. Ecstatic, knowing that Beatrice was finally going to choose a faction and that the girl would finally be able to find where she belongs.
Restless, knowing that she could possibly choose Erudite. Disappointed, seeing the girl's blood drop not in the bowl of water, but in the bowl of burning coal. Stupid, thinking that she should've known in the first place. Besides, Beatrice would have never been free in Erudite.
But above all, she felt love. Love, but she knew no reason.
And as the years flashed behind her closed eye lids and the emotions swallowed her whole, a tear dropped down to the white floor beneath her feet.
All these years, and she was never able to say it. All those times she came across the girl, but she was too stupid to have ever given into it.
Human nature is the enemy. But sometimes, it could benefit the person to give in to the enemy, even just for a fraction of time.
She lowered her head and pressed a kiss on the cool forehead of the girl that hung limp in front of her.
"Goodbye, Beatrice," she said as she opened her eyes. "I love you."
She could have sworn she saw the girl's chest heave, and those lips part just enough for her to breathe. But even after a few seconds, the girl didn't open her eyes.
Beatrice Prior was gone now, and Jeanine Matthews had lost the one.