Visiting Day. The second I open my eyes, I remember. My heart leaps and I'm filled with satisfaction seeing Peter limping in the dormitory, his nose bandaged with an white strip. He sends daggers at my direction. I return it with a defiant glare. I know I should watch my back, but right now, I don't care.

What matters is that I showed him that I will not be his doormat.

Everyone else dresses in silence. Not even Christina smiles. We all know that we might go to the Pit floor and search every face and never find one that belongs to us.

I make my bed with the tight corners like my father taught me. As I pinch a stray hair from my pillow, Eric walks in.

"Attention!" he announces. "I want to give you some advice about today. If by some miracle your families do come to visit you…" He scans our faces and smirks. "…which I doubt, it is best not to seem too attached. That will make it easier for you, and easier for them. We also take the phrase 'faction before blood' very seriously here. Attachment to your family suggests you aren't entirely pleased with your faction, which would be shameful. Understand?"

I understand. I hear the threat in Eric's sharp voice. The only part of that speech that Eric meant was the last part: We are Dauntless, and we need to act accordingly.

On my way out of the dormitory, Eric stops me.

"Are your parents going to show up?" he asks. His eyes – which are grey-colored – appear thoughtful.

"Why does it matter to you?" I demand. "You told us not to get attached."

"Yes, however, I would be surprised if one of them didn't," he says. "They are Abnegation, so it probably would be considered selfish not to come see you."

He's right. It would be selfish, but the paths here make it impossible for anyone not Dauntless to cross. Eric takes his keychain out of his pocket and pulls out a key, and gives it to me.

"This is the spare key to my apartment," he says. "If your parents don't show up, just go up to my apartment so you wouldn't have to see the other reunions. Also, you're free to come to my apartment when you just want to get away from it all."

I find that rather strange that he would trust me with his spare key, though the idea of having an place to just get away from everything is tempting. I put the key in my pocket.

"Thank you," I say.

"I'll be at the Pit in an few minutes," he says. "I hope I don't see you out there by yourself."

I slip past him and go down the empty hallway to the Pit. I run my fingers through my hair and partially restrain it. I check my clothes – am I covered up? My pants are tight and my collarbone shows. They won't approve.

Who cares if they approve? I set my jaw. This is my faction now. These are the clothes my faction wears. I stop just before the hallway ends.

Clusters of families stand on the Pit floor, most of them Dauntless families with Dauntless-born initiates. They still look strange to me – a mother with a pierced eyebrow, a father with a tattooed arm, an initiate with purple hair, a wholesome family unit. I spot Drew and Molly standing alone at one end of the room and notice with pleasure that their families didn't come.

But Peter's did. He stands next to a tall man with bushy eyebrows, and a short, meek-looking woman with red hair. Neither of his parents looks like him. They both wear the typical black and white Candor clothing, dressed in pressed blazers, shirts, and pants, and his father speaks so loudly that I can almost hear him from where I stand. Do they know what kind of person their son is?

Then again…what kind of person am I?

Across the room, Will stands with a blonde woman in a blue, professional dress and jacket. She doesn't look old enough to be his mother, considering that she looks to be in her early twenties but Will talked about having a sister once; maybe that's her.

Next to him, Christina hugs a dark-skinned woman in Candor black and white. Standing behind Christina is a young girl, also a Candor. Her younger sister.

Should I even bother scanning the crowd for my parents? I could just go up the Pire and wait it out in Eric's apartment. Maybe I can just look to see what consists of his book collection.

Then I see her. My mother stands alone near the railing with her hands clasped in front of her. She has never looked out of place, with her grey dress and her grey jacket, her hair in its simple twist and her face placid. I start toward her, tears jumping from my eyes. She came, she came for me.

I walk faster. She sees me, and for a second her expression is blank, like she doesn't know who I am. Then her eyes light up, and she opens her arms. She smells like soap and laundry detergent.

"Beatrice," she whispers. She runs her hand over my hair.

Don't cry, I tell myself. I hold her until I can blink the moisture from my eyes, and then pull back to look at her again. I smile with closed lips, just like she does. She touches my cheek.

"Well, look at you," she says. "You've filled out." She puts her arm across my shoulders. "Tell me how you are."

"You first." The old habits are back. I should let her speak first. I shouldn't let the conversation stay focused on me for too long. I should make sure she doesn't need anything.

"Today is a special occasion," she says. "I came to see you, so let's talk mostly about you. It is my gift to you."

My selfless mother. She should not be giving me gifts, not after I left her and my father. I walk with her toward the railing that overlooks the chasm, glad to be close to her. The last week has been more affectionless than I realized. At home we did not touch each other often, and the most I ever saw my parents do was hold hands at the dinner table, but it was more than this, more than here.

"Just one question." I feel my pulse in my throat. "Where's Dad? Is he visiting Caleb?"

"Ah." She shakes her head. "Your father had to be at work."

I look down. "You can tell me if he didn't want to come."

Her eyes travel over my face. "Your father has been selfish lately. That doesn't mean he doesn't love you, I promise."

I stare at her, stunned. My father – selfish? More startling than the label is the fact that assigned it to him. I can't tell by looking at her if she's angry. I don't expect to be able to. But she must be; if she calls him selfish, she must be angry.

I see Eric walk across the Pit. He approaches Molly and Drew and says something to them. They both scurry away like mice. Maybe he doesn't like it if initiates are just standing around, doing nothing on Visiting Day.

"What about Caleb?" I ask, turning back to mother. "Will you visit him later?"

"I wish I could," she says, "but the Erudite have prohibited Abnegation visitors from entering their compound. If I tried, I would be removed from the premises."

"What?" I demand. "That's terrible. Why would they do that?"

"Tensions between our factions are higher than ever," she says. "I wish it wasn't that way, but there is little I can do about it."

I think of Caleb standing among the Erudite initiates, scanning the crowd for our mother, and feel a pang in my stomach. Part of me is still angry with him for keeping so many secrets from me, but I don't want him to hurt. He's going to think that mother abandoned him.

"That's terrible," I repeat.

I look over my shoulder to see Eric approaching us. One part of me wants to steer my mother away from the chasm so she wouldn't have to see him; the other half considers the latter idiotic, that nothing wrong is going to happen.

Then again…Eric wondered if my parents or one of them was going to show up.

"Is everything going okay for you, ladies?" he asks, lacing his fingers together.

"Everything is fine. Thank you." She doesn't look as if he's intimidating her. Something tells me that she's familiar seeing Dauntless as intimidating as Eric.

If he notices that she doesn't appear intimidated, he doesn't let that bother him. He offers his hand. "My name is Eric, one of the five Dauntless leaders."

I expect her to hesitate or at least ask why he's a Dauntless leader at the age of eighteen. Instead she fits her hand into his and shakes his hand twice, like she's done it an few times before. "My name is Natalie. I'm Beatrice's mother."

I have never seen my mother shake hands with someone before. Over my mother's shoulder, I see that Four is standing by the chasm. He shakes his head before walking away.

"If you're wondering, I'll say that your daughter is doing well in her initiation so far," he says. "I've been overseeing her stage one initiation training."

Since when does "overseeing" include giving me personal training, that could unintentionally leave a target on my back?

"That's good to hear," she says. "I know a few things about Dauntless initiation, and I was worried about her."

"Dauntless initiation is rather difficult to those who don't know what they're going to deal with," says Eric. "There will be those who are idiotic to understand that people have the ability to adapt to their environment."

He's not going to give names. Of course he wouldn't.

Mother sighs. "A few people don't want to associate or be on friendly terms with the Abnegation now days."

"Blame that on the reports from Erudite," he says. "Some people are smart enough that they want to form their own opinions while others just swallow it up without a second thought. It's like spoon feeding the masses arsenic and telling them its sugar."

Is he merely lying just so he won't offend my mother? He was Erudite once.

"You don't believe them, do you?" she asks.

He pauses at first. "Since all of them are backed up by information that looks credible, I don't know where my opinion falls. Now, if you excuse me, I have important things to do."

My mother and I watch him leave. I watch as he weaves around the clusters of people before going up the stairwell to the Pire. I found it rather ironic that Eric, a former Erudite, was respectful to my mother, an Abnegation. Wait, he's a Dauntless leader; he has to act professional.

"What's he like?" she asks.

"He's intimidating," I answer. "I've only known him for a week, but I wouldn't want to get on his bad side."

"Have you made friends?" she asks.

"A few," I say.


When mother leaves, a half hour before lunch, I run to the dormitory. Fortunately, no one is in sight. I rush to my trunk, pull out Eric's book, cover it with an orange-red shirt and dash out of the dormitory.

I weave through the clusters of families, trying not to bump into people. My head clears when I ascend the stairs to the Pire. The area is almost bare, with a few people on ropes. The elevator is empty when I enter it and fortunately, no one enters as it goes up to the third floor.

After the elevator door opens, I walk down the hallway of apartments until I reach the door that leads to Eric's apartment. I take out the spare key and fumble with the lock. Hearing the door unlock, I pocket the key and enter his apartment.

Only the light from the sun outside lights the place and I cross over to one of his bookshelves and place the book on one of the shelves. Deciding to kill time, I plan on exploring his apartment, since I've only been in his living room and kitchen.

I go to the archway that leads to the short hallway, and see that there's an additional door to my right when I enter. Curiosity fills me when I open the door to my left. It's a bathroom, but it's smaller than the one in my old home back in Abnegation, as the shower stall, sink, and toilet are close together. It smells of that masculine body wash that the Dauntless men wear.

I close the door and decide to open the next door. I turn on the light and upon entering, I find out that I entered an bedroom. An queen sized bed is situated under an open window on the bed is an black duvet pulled over the pillows. There is a plywood dresser near the door and other then an mirror situated above it, there's no other decorations.

The only way I know that he's been in here is that I smell spicy men's cologne he wears all the time. I turn off the light and close the bedroom door.

The door on my right leads to a smaller, spare bedroom. I close that door and when I enter the room, I hear the doorknob move before the door opens, but fortunately it's just Eric.

You're letting your guard down, my mind warns me, but somehow, I don't want to listen.

"Your mother left?" he asks, closing the door behind him and turning on the lights.

"Yeah, she had to leave," I answer, as he approaches me. "She has to help make meals for the factionless."

I expect him to counter that, by citing one of the Erudite reports. Fortunately, he doesn't. "I find it interesting that your father didn't show up, but then again, my father didn't show up for Visiting Day two years ago."

"Why?" I ask, sitting down on the couch, and he sits next to me. "Erudite doesn't have strained relations with Dauntless as far as I know."

I expect him to snap at me for bringing up his former faction, but he doesn't for some reason. "Most of the Erudite think that the Dauntless are moronic idiots for constantly putting their lives in jeopardy." Eric snorts, like he agrees somewhat with that. "Father thought that joining Dauntless would only stunt my intellectual potential and that it will lead me to nowhere. Look where I am now?"

I'm reminded of my father calling the Dauntless "Hellions." I could understand why the Erudite are put off by the Dauntless: anything that requires adrenaline defies logic, and the Erudite value logic.

"My father doesn't seem to like the Dauntless either," I tell him. "He calls them 'Hellions'."

"It shouldn't surprise me that the Abnegation are put off by them either," says Eric. "All those reckless stunts are seen as self-indulgent to them most likely."

Without thinking, I blurt out, "Do you believe in the reports that your former faction releases about the Abnegation?"

He presses his lips together, like he's not sure how to answer at first. "All of them are backed up by information that looks credible. The Erudite only make their views public if they feel they have valuable and credible sources and information. Personally, I'm straddling the fence on that one. Half the time, I believe them, half the time I don't."

Half. That should leave a bad taste in my mouth, but somehow it doesn't. I think I would rather be around someone who only believes half of the reports than someone who believes in all of them.

"What reports do you do and don't believe?" I ask.

"There was a mathematical error in the report about food consumption by faction," says Eric. "I doubt that Abnegation can consume all that food or even hoard it. Hoarding food will result in it spoiling and going bad. Then again, I doubt that the Abnegation will allow the factionless to starve, as it would violate their manifesto."

I guess Jeanine knew that error, but kept it in because it would further her anti-Abnegation propaganda. Eric is right that hoarding food will only result in it spoiling.

"One of the reports I do believe, is that fairly recent one about Marcus Eaton," says Eric.

I frown. "That's already been debunked by my father."

"Oh, so your father is good friends with him," says Eric, raising an eyebrow.

"I wouldn't say friends," I correct. "More like coworkers who are on good terms with each other."

"Well, even if they were friends, I say that your father was probably deceived into thinking that Marcus Eaton actually has any good character."

I stand up. "My father is no idiot."

"Even the smartest people are deceived. Child abusers who hold a prominent position in society tend to keep it behind closed doors," says Eric. "They don't want their squeaky clean image tarnished."

I'm about to disagree with him when I realize that he might have a point.

"What convinced you that it was true?" I ask him.

"Tobias was quite a loner during stage one of initiation," Eric answers. "He would spend his time in one of the training rooms and sit by himself during mealtimes. I would have thought his withdrawn behavior was because of his Abnegation upbringing if he didn't thrash in his sleep every other night."

"Thrashing?" I ask. "Why would he thrash?"

"Thrashing in one's sleep is one of the indictors of PTSD," Eric says matter-of-factly. "If Marcus Eaton didn't abuse him, where did that part of PTSD come from? Also, Tobias Eatondidn't acknowledge his Visiting Day and his father didn't show up. Now, what were you told how Eaton Sr. reacted to his son's transfer?"

"My parents said that it devastated him," I answer.

"Devastated him," Eric repeats, scoffing. "If he loved his son and his transfer devastated him, he would have made the point to visit his son in the Pire."

There is no denying that Eric has a point there. Father didn't show up but mother said that it was because of his selfishness. Maybe there are things I don't know.

"I'm not Erudite, though," I say. "I apologize."

"It's not your fault that you were brought up in Abnegation," says Eric. "Did you even read that report?"

"No," I say, feeling stupid.

"It's not smart to have an opinion on a report you haven't read." Eric gets up from the couch and I watch him disappear into the kitchen. I hear the ruffling of papers and he comes back, holding a copy of the newspaper. "This was convenient timing as I was planning on recycling week old newspapers. You don't have to read it now, though you just have to make sure that the initiates didn't get a hold of it."

The top of the paper reads The Erudite Gazette. My family used to get the paper until six months ago, when the Erudite started producing anti-Abnegation propaganda.

"I gave you back your book," I tell him.

"You can keep it if you like," he says.


At lunch, I sit by myself. My friends are still with their families, so it gives me an chance to read the report that the Erudite produced. I move away my tray and spread the paper in front of me. It's on the front page.

Marcus Eaton's Secret Revealed. Cruelty Led To Son's Transfer

Two years ago, Tobias Eaton surprised everyone at the Choosing Ceremony by leaving Abnegation for Dauntless. Since he's the only one from his faction that left Abnegation in preference for the brave, we have asked ourselves: what would cause the son of an important man to leave the faction that was supposedly selfless? What led him to leave, especially if he tested for Abnegation? We dug deep into the reason on how he could have transferred and last week, we found disturbing evidence that his father was cruel and violent towards him, often beating his son with a belt.

Those who knew him before his transfer and during his initiation gave us some crucial information, confirming that cruelty and violence from his father was to blame. "He kept to himself during stage one of our initiation," says Eric Matheson, a Dauntless leader who was in the same initiation class as Tobias Eaton. "I would have thought that his isolation was a result of being brought up in Abnegation if I didn't hear him thrash and scream at night."

Eric Matheson's mother, Clarisse, who still resides in Erudite with her husband Cedric Matheson and teaches the Lower Level children Literacy, notes that the boy's curious, introverted behavior tipped her off. "Abnegation children usually speak when they're spoken to, but he was the most withdrawn of all of them. I actually met with his father after school once and asked him why. Marcus answered, 'His mother passed away two years ago. Her death was hard for him.' I replied, 'Since it's been two years, I think your son would be over that stage of grief by now.' He accused me of prying into private family matters. Looking back at the conversation now, it sent up red flags. I feel guilty for not investigating further."

Evelyn Eaton nee Johnson, raised an Erudite and transferred to Abnegation, passed away from childbirth, the infant dying minutes later, when Tobias Eaton was nine, or so we were told. What's strange after looking through her medical records, we came to the conclusion that she wasn't pregnant. Since individuals who abuse children also extend the abuse to their spouses, it's possible to conclude that her husband could have gone too far in the abuse that it eventually killed her.

We couldn't reach Marcus Eaton for further comment, though we were told by Abnegation councilman Andrew Prior that were intruding in Abnegation and should exit.

I think father said something about it a few weeks ago; that Erudite reporters came to Abnegation headquarters to interview Marcus about what father called "preposterous allegations." But what gets me is that the Erudite insinuated that Marcus could have beaten his wife to death instead of dying from child birth.

I remember going to the Eaton home for Evelyn's funeral. I was seven then. Looking back then, Marcus didn't give any indication that he beat her; he was somber and didn't act inappropriate. He couldn't possibly have…

Child abusers who hold a prominent position in society tend to keep it behind closed doors, I remember Eric telling me. Was that just a charade on Marcus's part? One thing that can't be denied is that the Erudite have access to medical records and if they say that Evelyn wasn't pregnant, then it must be true.

I look up to see Four about to walk by my table. I quickly stuff the paper in the book and bring my tray back in front of me. I'm hoping that Four walks past me, but he sets his tray across from mine and sit down.

"I saw that your mother came," he notes.

"Were you there at the Pit?" I ask, playing coy, not looking at him and I proceed to eat my lasagna.

"I was near the railing of the chasm as well," he pauses. "When did you acquire that?"

His fingers touch the cover of the self-defense book that's sitting by my tray.

I look at him this time. "Should you even know?"

"I see how he's making you lower your guard down," he says. "Hopefully, I don't hear that you go into his apartment this time."

It's too late. I've gone up there twice now, I think. Four looks concerned. However, considering that Eric and Four hate each other and that Eric hasn't done anything slightly threatening, it could mean that Four just doesn't like Eric.

"If he wanted to hurt me, he would have done it by now," I say.

"He set you up with Peter," he says. "Most likely it was punishment for standing up to him two days ago."

"But I won, and if Eric expected me to suffer a great loss, he would have paired us for my first fight," I point out.

Four purses his lips, trying to think what he's trying to say, before saying, "Careful, Tris."

He said the same thing during dinner during my first night here. I watch as he picks up his tray and leaves the table.