"Are you sure that you want me to come?" I nervously zip and unzip my plain black jacket.

"You've already asked me that. I want you there." Ryan says without turning around, and I fall silent. Why does she want me to come with her? It's a meeting between the three leaders. And I'm just a lowly rebel fresh out of initiation. Although in the past couple raids I've been useful . . . I think.

My thoughts flash back to the boy I shot. Lately he's been on my mind. I feel kind of guilty for shooting him, but then I shake it off it's been four months since he got the bullet through his foot, he's probably not even limping anymore. Besides, a girl has got to do what a girl has to do. But still I wonder if he hates the rebel girl who did it. Somehow it hurts to think of those warm brown eyes glaring at me.

"Did you hear the announcement? The one about the Selection?"

I shake my head, startled out of my thoughts. It doesn't ring a bell.

"It's a competition." The smirk on Ryan's face widens. "Where 35 girls are thrown into the palace, and Prince Justin chooses one to marry. Are you interested?"

"Sure," I say sarcastically, "I'm sure the most eligible bachelor in the country wants to marry a rebel who hasn't showered in a month."

Ryan giggles, "I was wondering when you would notice the smell. I've been meaning to ask, but I know it's not polite." We collapse in laughter as we enter the crumbling brick building that serves as temporary rebel headquarters. The other two rebel leaders, Dap and Devon, give us strange looks.

"What's she doing here?" Dap asks, pointing at me.

"I brought her." Ryan says, "She's part of the plan."

What plan?

"I trust you heard the news." The Ryan that I know — the giggling, friendly one, the girl who could be my best friend is gone. She is replaced with a cold and ruthless rebel leader.

Devon rolls his eyes, "Obviously. It's all everyone's been talking about. What's this plan you're talking about, Ryan?"

"We need people on the inside. Someone who can get the information that we need. Yes, we have guards and maids on our side, but we need a spy who is close to Prince Justin." Ryan glances at me, and I feel my stomach twist.

Oh no.

"I propose that we enter a girl in the Selection."

Dap and Devon stare at her in stunned silence. They obviously think that the idea is crazy.

"Who would we enter?" Devon manages to ask. Ryan grins and jerks her head in my direction, and I wince as three pairs of eyes glance at me.

I slowly try to back out of the room, "No. No, no. I won't do it. I'm a rebel, not a lady, remember?" I can see Ryan open her to protest and I cut her off. "Absolutely not! I won't. I refuse."

She moves so quickly that I don't see her grab the front of my jacket, and slam me against the door. Her knuckles dig into the hollow at the base of my throat and I gasp for air.

"You are a rebel and you took the badge." She snarls, jamming her finger into the star on my jacket. The metal pin presses into my chest, and I squirm in pain. "That means you have to sacrifice yourself sometimes!"

I glance desperately at Dap and Devon where they stand quietly. Their unfeeling expressions are identical. I feel a renewed pressure on my windpipe. I close my eyes to escape Ryan's accusing glare.

"Do you remember when we found you? You had no one Abby, and we gave you a home. Is this how you're going to repay us? By refusing to help?" She hisses in my ear.

I chew on the inside of my cheek. Images flash through my mind, and the memories come quickly and cloud my mind — the hunger pains that felt like my stomach was sticking to my backbone. I remember the exhaustion from working long hours as a gardener. And the horrible sickness that left me shivering on the floor of my dirt hut. Until Ryan found me and given me a second chance at life — at a new life. I make my choice, although I hate the whole idea. And most of all, I hate that Ryan manipulated me into it. She brought up memories that I'd rather forget.

"Fine . . . I'll do it."

The pressure on my throat is instantly released, and I drop to the floor clutching my neck. I'm sure I'll be left with bruises.

They wait patiently as I pull myself into a chair. Ryan hands me a pen and pushes the Selection entry form across the table. I can't resist admiring the paper. It's thick and creamy, with a delicate gold border. My shaky handwriting will ruin the royal effect.

"What do I put for my name, my province and my caste?" I ask.

"Your name will be Abigail Tamblin from Clermont. You will be a Three." Ryan answers. "Fill it out."

"A Three?" I gasp, "How can I even pull that off? I'm a natural Seven!"

Ryan looks at me, and I'm surprised at how sad she looks. "I'll help you Abby. Trust me, you'll be ready."

"If they find out, they will kill me."

"Is this what you're scared of?" Dap raises an eyebrow. "Death is a childish fear."

"It's not that." I snap, "Although I would rather not die young." I try to jump out of my chair, but Ryan's hands snake out and keep me in my seat. "Give me the paper." She demands.

"What?"

"You're hands are shaking. I'll write your information down." Her handwriting is beautiful and elegant. In a few minutes she's made me sound like a wonderful candidate for the Selection. According to Ryan, I can speak French, dance and sing, and I was apparently enrolling at the University of Clermont in the fall for a teaching degree. Everything is bogus, well except for the singing part — I don't think I sound that bad.

"Sign here." I take the pen and write my new name, Abigail Tamblin. I resist the urge to write rebel spy in the occupation section.

After all, I can't blow my cover.


Thank you to those who reviewed and followed/favourited after Chapter 1, it was great to hear feedback on this story!

winterprincess: Thank you for being my first reviewer!

sparklysparkle: Wow thanks! I love Divergent, but the last book made me cry — a lot.