My heart aches as I see her, frail and pale, trudge her way into the pit. She is only 21, but the wrinkles and frown lines spreading on her face make her look twice her age. And it's all my fault. I was the one who told her that it was all over. That i didn't love her anymore. That the fourth raven on her collarbone had flown away. Because I considered myself to be like my father. I was afraid that I would hurt her, so I let her go. But I understood too late that others would hurt her more.

She got married two years after I broke it off with her. She needed someone to love her. And Al seemed right. He would cherish her, we all thought. But we were wrong. As soon as he realized that she was much more stronger, much more free and dauntless than he would ever be, he started oppressing her. Day after day we can see that it gets worse, but Tris never complains. She never talks anymore. I have almost forgotten what her voice sounds like.

One evening I happen to walk by Al and Tris's apartment, but something stops me in my tracks. Noises. And suddenly I am transported into my childhood. I hear the same sound as Marcus slaps his belt across his hand, almost as if he were tests it out, before he whips it across my body. I hear Tris make a sound similar to a child. Me. Then I hear a pleading. Tris's voice turns into Evelyns as i remember Marcus beating her black and blue as i watched. NO. This cannot be hapening. This is why i left Tris, so that she would never be hurt. I almost break the door down as my heart contracts in pain at the sound of her whimper. No Tobias, you don't know what's happening for sure.
A pained look crosses my face before I slowly make my way to the control room.
In the room I slowly flip the cameras on, monitoring any abnormal behavior. Everything seems normal until I see Tris limping out of her apartment, her body hunched over and her face bruised.