It is a long time before the tears stop. I cry for every reason that I've kept bottled up inside of me. I cry for leaving my family on Choosing Day, because I knew I was leaving them but never gave them any warning. I cry for my shortcomings in Stage One. I cry for the fears that I will face tomorrow, and for the possibility of not finishing in the top ten. I cry for the way Jack violated me, for how helpless he made me feel, and for the way Queen so selflessly defended me.

But mostly I cry for the terrible thing I did to Dante. I made him believe that he wasn't good enough for me. Made him believe that I was too self-centered to help him. I cry for the trust that he put in me, and how I deliberately let him down. I never wanted to do it, but will he believe me when I tell him that? And how am I ever going to find the right way and the right time to tell him?

So much has changed in so little time. I know nothing will ever be the same, no matter what happens tomorrow. And that means that my idea of "normal" has to change, because everything else has, and will continue to do so.

I have to be ready, and I have to be unafraid. Dauntless.

Long after I have sobbed my last, I am still sitting on the floor with Queen beside me. I keep my hand on her at all times, not wanting to break the connection that we have developed. The other dogs pace in their kennels, watching us. They whine occasionally, but the barking has ceased. At length, I realize that today would have been Jack's day to care for and work with the dogs. It's long past the time that he would have arrived, and it occurs to me that a replacement probably hasn't yet been assigned because the canine program is on the brink of being shut down by Dauntless leadership. I give Queen a long look as I weigh the pros and cons of taking on this task. Finally, I stand and approach the next kennel in the row.

I take each dog out using the slip lead that hangs on a hook near the door. Each dog permits me to open the gate to its kennel wide enough to put my arm through and place the loop around its neck. Only when the leash is on do I open the gate all the way and lead the dog out and across the floor to the glass enclosure. I remove the leash as the dog walks through that door, then service each kennel as usual. I keep Queen beside me the whole time, trusting that she will intervene if anything goes awry. Luckily for us, the dogs are well behaved the entire time and I manage to get all eight kennels cleaned and all eight dogs fed and watered. I also make it a point to start learning the names of the other seven: besides Queen, there are the boys Ace, Lance, Trip, Fleet, and Drift; and the girls Rose and Belle.

When at last I have completed my task, I return Queen to her kennel. Just as I am sliding the latch on her gate, I hear the door to the room open. I tense up immediately as an image of Jack entering the room flashed in my mind. I turn with a start to face whoever has entered, my heart in my throat. I am relieved when I see that it is Dale and Carla.

"Hey Rain," Dale greets me, his arm draped casually around Carla's shoulders. "How are things going in here with the dogs?"

"A lot better than I thought," I admit. "I took them all out today because…"

I falter, not wanting to speak that name. I look down, away from their faces.

"…Because I figured no one else was coming to work with them," I conclude.

"You did what?" Dale asks, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"I took each dog out, one at a time, and put them in the glass room. I cleaned their kennels, and then put the dogs away. One by one," I explain.

Carla and Dale glance at each other with an expression I can't define. No one says anything for a moment.

"Well, that's one hell of a breakthrough for you," Dale says. I stick my fingers through the mesh of Queen's kennel and she licks them affectionately. Dale lets out a low whistle.

"I just kept her with me the whole time," I nod at Queen. "I figured I could trust her if… if something went wrong."

"Dale," Carla says gently to her husband, "would you mind if I talked to Rain alone for a minute?"

He shakes his head and gives her shoulder a squeeze before he leaves us alone.

I don't say anything. I don't look at her. I know what this is going to be about, and after the snippets of gossip and the shunning from the other initiates that I've experienced today, I really do not want to talk about it. I grip the wire links of Queen's kennel door and stare at the floor. Presently, Carla sighs.

"I know you probably don't want pity, or for anyone to say that they know how you feel right now, so I'm offering neither," she says. "First, because I believe that you are stronger than that; and second, because I honestly don't know how you feel. I can only imagine how awful it must be to experience something like that. So I will only say this: you aren't alone here. You do have friends; people who like you and care about you. If you need to talk, or even if you don't but you just don't want to be alone, we're here. Also, I wanted to let you know that after tomorrow's evaluation, you can come see us about job assessment and placement. I know of a couple positions you might do well in, if you qualify."

I don't reply. After a few minutes, she moves toward the door.

"Carla," I call softly as she reaches the door, my voice breaking. She stops. "Thank you."

"Anytime, Rain," she murmurs. "And I mean that." And with that, she leaves the room.

A few minutes later, I step away from the kennel gate and survey the dogs. While I am still not one hundred percent comfortable in their presence, today proved that I could interact with them on some level without being paralyzed by my fear of being attacked by them. I am beginning to understand that working through this fear is mainly about establishing trust with the dogs. I think about what Dale told me the first time he brought me to see the dogs: how they were looking for someone to take over the dogs' training so the program wouldn't be shut down. With the right guidance, I might just be able to do it. But I also think about what Spencer and I discussed all those weeks ago, about the Perimeter Guard, and suddenly I am in a quandary. I want to work with the dogs, especially Queen, but I also want to be on the Perimeter Guard squad.

And that's when the meaning of Carla's suggestion hits me.

I know of a couple positions you might do well in, if you qualify…

I feel a smile tug at the corners of my mouth. I must do very, very well in my fear landscape tomorrow.

Feeling encouraged by all this, I check all of the dogs' kennels one last time to make sure that they have adequate food and water and to ensure that their gates are all securely latched. Finding nothing amiss, I return to the Pit. It's still too early for dinner, so I wander over to the railing beside the chasm. There are a few small groups standing around; some look like they are starting in on the liquid festivities for tomorrow's revelry a bit early. I spot Jane and her friends from the climbing wall standing among one of the groups. She sees me as well, and raises her flask in my direction. I wave and continue down the rail to the far end where the light is the dimmest and the spray from the water crashing on the rock below is the heaviest. I close my eyes as I step into the veil of cool mist, letting it engulf me along with the perpetual dusk at this end of the chasm. I feel like I can disappear here, and no one would find me if I didn't want them to.

You do have friends; people who like you and care about you.

I try to shove Carla's words from my head, but they won't go. Something about what she said needles at my brain, some meaning that I'm overlooking. They are not meant to be taken just at face value. I know that I can go to her or to Dale to talk: Dale told me as much yesterday. It's not like Carla to repeat something that I already know, and she would know that Dale already encouraged me to seek either of them for the same reason.

I lean against the railing, puzzling over this. Was she referring the other initiates? No, she couldn't have meant them. All they have done is steal glances at me and gossip about what happened. Not one of them has even tried to approach me on the subject. Did she mean Jane, with whom I had a brief but memorable training session? The staff at the infirmary?

None of these seem quite right. All of these people have seen initiates come and go: it's part of Dauntless life; part of the Faction system and its laws. They might all be a little disappointed if I don't make the cut and end up factionless or if I chose to leave voluntarily because of what happened yesterday, but I can't say that I think any of them care enough to call me a friend.

I sigh deeply, turning this over and over in my mind as I stand in my cool, dark corner.

When I open my eyes, I am abruptly presented with the answer.

I watch him stride away from the rail and move through the crowds in the direction of the corridor to his dorm, his ponytail swinging slightly between his shoulder blades.

My heart feels like it weighs ten tons as I take one step, then another, then another… and then I am hurrying to catch up with him.