I press my palms to my eyes, trying desperately to figure out what that means. This glass statue is the best clue I've had so far, and I have no idea how to follow it.

I resume the simulation, hoping for more insights, but all thoughts of anomalous statues are wiped from my mind. I see myself, crouching in a bathtub, gently swabbing blood and dirt from Tris's feet. There's nothing stern or forbidding about me now, that's for sure. The scene is unmistakably charged, as Tris caresses my hands, lathering them with soap.

We are…cleaning each other. That might seem a strange thing to do for most people, but it's very, very Abnegation. I frown – in fact, it all fits so neatly together, that Tris and I would travel down this road together, not only sharing intimacy in a way that would be comfortable for two people raised in Abnegation, but also washing away all the sins and shame of this war for each other.

It dawns on me that in both real life and the simulation, Tris has tried to hint at just how much she feels at fault. She will say later in her simulation, in that same room in my father's house, that she still can't hold a gun. Not since she shot Will with one and watched her father and mother die in a hail of bullets. I knew she felt bad about that, but not that bad. It's not a feeling I share right now – for all my dread about having to shoot an innocent person, putting a bullet into Eric's brain was not that hard.

That train of thought is completely derailed when I see the two of us on screen, dripping wet, embracing.

"My family is all dead, or traitors; how can I…" Tris chokes out.

"I'll be your family now," my voice is rich and sensual, definitely not rumbling. Not so Abnegation anymore.

"I love you," she says. I'm about to pause and replay that when the virtual me actually asks her to say it again.

"Tobias, I love you," she says more firmly.

"I love you, too."

Her hands slip under the hem of my shirt, and up my back, and I pull my shirt off. She runs her fingers lightly across each of my tattoos as we kiss gently, and then more urgently. She pulls back, her hands moving down my chest, across my abdomen, stopping at my belt.

"I'm not afraid of what I want anymore," she whispers.

And then the screen goes dark.

I know I haven't moved at all, and my mouth is hanging open. I have to replay the scene several times, just because I've waited so long and wanted so much to hear her say those things to me.

Well, she'll never have the chance to say them in real life if I don't stay focused, I scold myself, shaking my head vigorously and trying to clear my thoughts. I replay the scene again, and this time, I try to maintain a clinical distance, watching the brain scans. Throughout the encounter, that small region of her brain is illuminated, and her amygdala is flickering, too. But when she tells me she loves me, that frontal region flares, and the amygdala goes quiet. She appears to fall asleep after that, very abruptly.

Just then, the door to the lab bangs open into the cabinet. Stupid! Stupid – I've let myself get too absorbed in the simulation.

I jump up, pulling the headphones off and a second weapon out of my waistband.

"Four!" someone is shouting. It's Leo. "Four! Are you in there?"

I look at the surveillance screen and see from the camera in the hallway that Leo is with two heavily armed Dauntless traitors or the Dauntless formerly known as traitors – whatever they are now. And he's with two women – one Erudite, and one Dauntless. I can't tell if she's a traitor or loyal.

"What do you want, Leo?" I shout.

"I brought you some help," he says. I'm about to express doubt, to put it mildly, when I get a good look at the Dauntless woman's face.

It's Christina.