Thank you so much to Bamberlee for editing!

Thank you all so much for reviewing. Today has been the ultimate dumpster fire (like, legit worst day of my lifeeee) so I have nothing super fun to write. Just thank you for all the kind words and I appreciate them all.

The people who guessed I could not wrap the story up in a few chapters are totally correct, so there will be a few more than I planned. I hope you're all staying safe and healthy!

Arlene doesn't know where to look.

Her stare goes back and forth between Four and me, the group of leaders filling in every inch of free space behind her, and every so often, over to Eric.

He looks smug. He stands beside me with his arms behind his back, watching intently as a young nurse takes Four's vitals. She frowns when he tries to move away, and he shakes his head when she asks if his head hurts. He's not so much refusing to be seen in here or trying to avoid treatment, he just doesn't know why he's been brought into the infirmary.

He also doesn't know what Dauntless is, or why every leader dragged him deep beneath the faction the second we arrived back.

"How tall are you?" She blinks up at him, pausing to clutch the paperwork to her chest. Her name badge reads Stella, and she's so quiet it's hard to hear her. "Are you alright? Are you dizzy? Are you having any blurred vision?"

"I'm fine. I don't know why this is necessary." Four crosses his arms over his chest, and he looks petulant as ever when he glares at us. "I don't know what's going on."

"That's for sure," Rylan snickers, and he only stops when Arlene glares at him. He starts up again when she turns away, and he resumes trying to listen to his own heartbeat with the medical equipment she'd already told him to put down. "We should tell him his name is Frank. Since he doesn't remember. Frank, hold tight. We'll be done soon."

"I know what my name is," Four snaps, leaning back and he tries to push the nurse away from him.

Stella has already wiped the blood off his neck, and the only telltale sign of his memory loss is a tiny mark. She glances at it and looks over at Arlene with obvious concern.

"Do you want me to call Neuro? I don't have anything here that will help him. We could try giving him some of the antivirals and hope that maybe it triggers something. Or I can put a call in to Erudite and see if they have something that works."

Arlene glances over at me, and I wonder if she knows about my dad. Right before I can tell her Daniel said something had worked, she steps forward and plucks the paperwork from Stella and demands we all leave.

"I have a few things we can try. If Evelyn made the serum, we don't know what's in it. We'll start with bloodwork. Four, I need your jacket off. The rest of you can head out or wait in the lobby. Does he have an emergency contact? Or a responsible party?" Arlene looks at all of us, silent and close together as Rylan manages to knock the magazine rack off the wall, and no one says anything.

Jason finally clears his throat, but only when Four looks at him expectantly. "Uh, I don't think he does. Someone can maybe try to get ahold of Tris but…"

He throws a furtive glance over at Jeremy, who throws an evil stare right back at him.

"Actually, someone call Zeke. He'll come get him."

"It'll be a minute anyway," Stella insists, and she sort of reminds me of Tris. Though she's much friendlier, even if she is quiet. "If you'll leave Zeke's number, I'll call when we're done."

"Uh, I'll find it," Jason offers, and he grabs Rylan to pull him out of the office. "We'll be back. We'll fix the rack, too."

"Don't bother. Rylan has an appointment in a few days. I'll just leave it down until I'm sure he's not coming back. Ever," Arlene answers dryly.

"Are you…banning me from the infirmary?" Rylan laughs, but he's shoved forward by Max, darkly informing him to behave.

Arlene waits until we start to file out before she turns to talk to Four. I hear her tell him this should be fine. There is a good chance the serum isn't permanent, but he doesn't know what she's talking about. He sits there silently, and I trip over Eric's boot when he stops to tilt his head toward Arlene. A look of recognition flashes across his face, quick and fierce.

His grey eyes find mine as his hand flies out to steady me, and his voice is low.

"Did you ever….?"

I shake my head no.

My time in the infirmary had come to an abrupt halt once I passed out, and Arlene hadn't called me to follow up. She must not have called Eric, either.

"I can get it soon," I promise, and I slip my hand into his.

His nod is tight but telling.

He leads me out of the infirmary silently. Despite having killed Evelyn, Four losing his memory, and me being safe, his shoulders slump down further with every step we take.

"Eric, do you want a baby?"

I watch as Eric pauses taking off his jacket, and his eyes darken at my question. He's momentarily caught off guard, but it's gone just as quickly as it happened.

"No." He shrugs the jacket off, but his stare stays on me. "What would I do with a child?"

That's a very good question.

He'd eaten with Zander, once, and looked uncomfortable for most of it. There is nothing about him that screams father material, almost everything suggests otherwise. Raising a child here would undoubtedly be violent and strange. There are no sunny fields. No lakes to swim in. No friendly neighbors to help out, or farmers willing to let you take a lazy tour of their fields because you are bored. There are wide open spaces here, but also a chance you'd fall into a great abyss if you got too close.

Not to mention, Eric's job is to lead his faction to protect others. I could only assume any child of his would be expected to follow in his footsteps, and would have extreme expectations placed on him or her. The thought of Eric with a tiny baby is laughable, even now, as he blinks at me.

The room is quiet except for the sound of his phone ringing. He ignores it in favor of tilting his head to examine me, and his stare is piercing.

Being in the infirmary brought up more questions than it did answers. Not only could I assume Evelyn had injected Four with the same serum Landon had used on my father, but it begged the question of how to treat it. Daniel had treated my father's memory loss, but would Erudite be willing to share their treatment with Dauntless? Could someone demand they do? Eric's father was worried this might become an issue, and this proved there was potential for him to be right.

Or would Eric refuse just because he hated Four, or claim this was his punishment for betraying the faction?

I couldn't decide. He hadn't really brought it up to me, and while I didn't know Four very well, I was secretly hoping Eric chose to help him.

Being down there with Arlene also reminded me that I hadn't gotten any test results back. I was expecting her to stop me, but Arlene hadn't brought them up at all.

Not that she had a chance.

Eric and I left the minute she shooed us out to help Four, and our walk back to his apartment was quiet.

Now, as I sit here on his bed, I figure we might as well talk about this. Eric didn't like talking about anything, but he's smart enough to know that at some point, we'd wind up having a child if we weren't careful.

I just couldn't figure out if he actually wanted a family, or he was lusty over the idea that this was permanent. His own family hadn't been, but he and I could have something together. I could see it every so often; he looked at me with a desperation he didn't know existed in himself. It was the same way I didn't believe anyone would ever listen to me, or care that I existed past being a member of Amity.

"I never heard back from Arlene," I glance up at him from his bed, sunk against his black pillows. We'd been back for a half hour now. I got ready for bed, he made a million phone calls. Some were quick –barked orders at a squad to stay where they were –and some were not quick. The one with Harrison was the longest. I was disappointed as ever to overhear Harrison was staying in Amity for an undisclosed amount of time, though I understood why. "Did she call you?"

"No. I assumed she didn't have the test back yet," he answers easily, and he reaches for the collar of his t-shirt. "Why? Are you sick? Do you not feel well?"

"Other than nearly having my memory erased, I'm good," I sink back further, and the look on his face tells me he knows I'm probably not great.

But I am.

In a way, I accepted what happened. I had willingly agreed to go with Four, and I had been determined to prove to everyone I could stay here. I knew when I saw Evelyn it wouldn't be good. I knew she wouldn't be happy with how things were going, and while her death wasn't what I was expecting, it had brought some closure.

I wouldn't spend my days wondering if she was coming to hunt me down, and I wouldn't have to worry about what she was planning on doing in Amity. I didn't have any ill feelings about what had happened; she'd screwed me over, she'd made Landon into a complete monster, and she'd treated Four like garbage once he wouldn't help her. She didn't deserve the ability to ruin anyone's life, and now, she couldn't.

Justice, though dealt in a bittersweet way, had been served.

"I'm….that's not what I meant. I'm… sorry," Eric forgets his shirt, and he's over to the bed in a single blink. He's on the bed before I can tell him he doesn't have to apologize, and his lips touch mine before I can tell him what I really want to know is when Harrison will be back. "I thought I was too late. I thought she injected you when I saw you pulling the syringe away. If she had, you wouldn't have a clue who I am."

"I think I would have figured it out," I mumble against his lips, and I feel them turn up. I dig my fingers into his hair, slipping them past his warm skin and warm shirt, and I urge him closer. "Eric, is my last name really yours? When did we get married? Did we have a big wedding? Or is that just in Rylan's game?"

"Define big," he retorts, and he takes my lower lip between his as one palm presses to the side of my face, hot and rough.

"I have to tell you, I thought Jeremy's plan was stupid from the get go. I found it…suspicious," Eric lowly informs me, and his weight is heavy over me. It's a funny feeling, though pinned beneath him against inky sheets where I've only slept for a few nights, he's safe. There's a comfort to him, like he's strong enough to keep harm away, and determined enough to do it.

"I told Max I didn't want you to go. But you said yes," he drags his teeth across my skin, sinking them into my neck until I squirm. "So I didn't have a choice but to let you go."

"I thought it would help me here. This way, everyone would know I belong in Dauntless," I confess, my eyes closing as my fingers tighten. "No one could say I should go back to Amity or –"

"That's none of their business," Eric says, and the words are lost against my skin. He pulls away suddenly, the cold violent and rude after he was so warm, and he looks down at me. "If anyone has an issue with you being here, they can come talk to me."

He stares for a minute without saying anything.

One of his hands moves to rest at the base of my throat, lightly skimming over where Landon had once held me down. He stays there, looking at me like I'm some lovely creature and not some random girl from Amity, and he answers my questions without speaking.

I am most definitely Everly Coulter, and we are most definitely about to celebrate our marriage, even if he couldn't admit it.

In the morning, I catch sight of myself in the mirror.

It's enough to make me stop in my tracks. I'm stunned to find that I don't resemble the girl from Amity, not one bit.

Sure, I look the same on a basic level. But here, deep beneath the darkness and hidden far beneath the Earth, I look like someone else. My hair is wild. Blacker than usual and a mess of wavy, tangled pieces roughed up by Eric's hands. My lower lip is swollen from where he'd bit it, having not wanted to say goodbye before he went to work and instead kissing me until he was late for work. My skin is paler, less sun-kissed and closer to the stark pallor hidden beneath Eric's uniform. My eyes look brighter, happier, and the bruises are almost gone entirely.

The mark on my neck from Evelyn is so faint I can barely see it. It's concealed by the slow, lush bites from Eric, and the way he'd hovered over me.

There's also the nightgown.

It's black and silky, and something someone far more confident would wear. Except that today, I find it suits me.

I stare for a second longer, wondering how on Earth I ever could have stayed in Amity.

Things happen slowly.

It's like time comes to a crawl once Evelyn's death is officially announced. I watch Eric make the speech alongside the Dauntless faction. It's an interesting experience; I garner a few stares, but almost everyone is welcoming. I stand with them in a black dress, staring up at him, as he sharply informs the faction Evelyn has been officially declared dead. Her army, not quite the rag tag team of factionless they'd assumed they were, have been given a few options.

One is to disband and resume being factionless. Dauntless is willing to overlook their actions so long as they admit to their wrongdoing, agree to not form another army, surrender their weapons, and receive a tracker.

Two is to stay in Dauntless custody. They can await a trial by Jack, something which Jason groaned would be worse than death, or admit guilt and work off their sentence here.

The third, and what was quickly becoming the most popular, was to join the Dauntless army. There was some hesitation over this one, considering inviting them to fight alongside the very people they wanted to destroy was dangerous, but it came with an alluring offer: they would share their secrets and fight with us, and in return, they would be given a place to live and routine meals.

The idea that bare, basic necessities would win them over made my chest hurt, but Jason pointed out some of them weren't the most upstanding citizens. Some weren't good people at all, but most were. So when almost all made the choice to join Dauntless, he looked happy, and I felt better when I learned their low ranking position here didn't make them actual members of Dauntless, but allies.

Once this announcement was made, Quinten scowled at everyone from the alcove he was standing in, and I knew he was calculating how he was going to stretch the meals to feed a hundred more. He crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged at me, and we both knew this would either be what the faction needed, or a complete disaster.

It still felt better than life in Amity.

I spent the next few days with Eric, on his couch, with my head on his chest. There was no official announcement of anything more than he was tired, and Jeremy was sucking as a leader in training.

I half listened.

My head felt exhausted even though I wasn't doing much, but I was trying to stay productive. I was often still in bed when Eric left for work, and it wasn't long before I discovered Eric had a cleaning lady, one who came routinely. I bumped into her while she was walking down the hallway to the guest room, and she cheerfully told me she didn't need help.

She enjoyed her job. She washed his clothes, and mine, and folded or hung them up. She made his bed. Brought me a drink even though I told her I was fine. Rearranged his books. Brought up a pair of boots he'd had fixed. Put away his groceries. I watched her from the couch, while I finished the first book I'd found on Eric's table. She smiled at me while she worked on his already spotless kitchen, and I sat there wondering if there was another book in the series.

There was.

She brought it to me when she noticed I was done, and cheerfully informed me she'd be back in a few days.

I held off on the book, but mostly because I wanted to save it. Instead, I had lunch with Christina, wandered around the stores, slipped past the guy eyeing me from the tattoo shop, and tried to memorize the layout of Dauntless. I secretly hoped I would run into Harrison, perhaps back for a meeting or something, but I never did. The closest I got was Rylan, dangling his legs over the chasm and calling me over to come sit by him.

I joined him without question.

The sensation of being up so high was terrifying. I'm not afraid of heights, but with nothing but rushing water and the force of the intense spray, it felt like the whole thing might collapse. My time at the chasm only lasted a second. I swear Rylan barely said my name before Eric sent me a text message, and it was straight to the point.

GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THE CHASM, EVERLY.

I read it, then smiled at the sheer romance of his words.

He must not have appreciated my brave act of sitting there. His second message was the same –EVERLY, YOU'RE GOING TO FALL. DON'T MAKE ME COME DOWN THERE –followed by a sweet reminder that we had plans for lunch. His crankiness continued up until now, when he sighs as the boss of the office fumbles some big meeting, and his boss looks like she might murder him.

Eric moves his head from side to side until his spine cracks, then he relaxes. "Did Arlene call you?"

I glance up, startled. My eyes had been closing on their own, heavy sleep daring me to get really comfortable against Eric's chest, and it takes everything in me to look up at him.

"No. Did she call you?"

Eric shakes his head, and lowly informs me she's been busy and we'll probably hear from her soon. He snickers when he says this, and I watch him sit there smug as ever, while he explains what's going on.

Turns out, Four is a crappy patient, and very unwilling to do anything Arlene asks.

Eric took great joy in this, along with Jeremy's failure to progress as a leader. When I listened to Eric talk about him, I sometimes got the impression that no one in this faction would ever meet Eric's standards for being a leader. They were extremely high, and despite him confessing he'd been given the position because of outside influence, he took it seriously. Even Jason and Rylan, with their goofing off or their far less serious attitudes, were expected to keep things in line. My thoughts on this are interrupted when Eric's phone rings again, and he reaches for it, because he has to.

It's Daniel.

Eric eyes the phone with disinterest. There's no hesitation in his decision to decline the call, but I feel something tense when he tosses it aside.

He doesn't say anything.

He pulls me closer, shifting me so I'm almost covering him, and he returns to watching an entire office freak out at the thought of losing their jobs.

In the earliest part of the morning, so early that I can't believe Eric is even awake, he less than gently shakes my shoulder and asks if I want to go running with him.

I blink at the shirtless blur before me, and he smirks in faux encouragement.

He must be joking.

He'd told me it was snowing last night. That meant it would be absolutely freezing, and only someone insane would choose to rise before it was light out and want to run through the streets. I wait for him to tell me he's kidding and he's going to slide right back beneath the covers, but he brightly informs me he thought I might want to go with him and he bought me some running shoes.

I scowl into his pillow, and I shake my head no.

Eric leaves, sulky and insulted that I don't want a healthy dose of hypothermia this morning, but he touches the side of my cheek before he leaves and reassures me I can go another day.

I laugh myself back to sleep, though it only takes me a few seconds before I dream of him, smiling at me warmly from across a hospital room.

In the late afternoon, I run into Tris.

I continue my inability to see anyone by physically running into her. She was heading around the corner with a look of mild panic, and it grows worse when she sees it's me. I was paying no attention. I was busy thinking I could grab a few muffins and go upstairs, when I walked right into her. Her yelp was more out of concern that I was okay, and she immediately took five steps back.

She looked…distraught.

Her blonde hair was a mess, her eyes were dark, and she looked like she'd been up for five days straight. After a second of silence, I asked her if she was okay, hoping she was.

Her answer was silence, followed by one very quiet, almost inaudible, and incredibly heavy no.

Turns out, the complicated life of one Tobias Easton, heavily involves Tris.

Even with their breakup and separation, it's more complex than it seems. I figured this out while Tris and I walked; she stuck close to me, and the unfriendliness from before was replaced with pure anxiety over a situation that's out of her hands. It only took us a few minutes to be away from the main part of the faction, and I prided myself on not getting lost while she quietly told me far more than I ever could have imagined.

Their relationship might not have ended well, but it was obvious, at least to me, that neither of them were over it.

Hence, her refusal to marry Jeremy.

And his refusal to enjoy life.

"Does he remember anything yet? Or what happened?"

Now, in the cold and quiet, I pull my feet up beneath me, and Tris sits down on Eric's couch like it's a trap. When nothing happens, she relaxes back further, but she's still cautious. Her stare flits around the apartment. She eyes everything greedily, taking in each detail like it's a secret that's been revealed. Her inspection pauses at the hallway, and I wonder if she wants to see his bedroom.

He'd probably get a good laugh out of that.

"Eric isn't here. He's in a meeting until five," I reassure her, and I only know this myself because he sent me a message explaining this. He actually wasn't even in the faction. The next text said he was in Candor, the third and seemingly final text said he'd see me for dinner. I sent back a message asking if he wanted me to make something, and he very quickly told me no, he only had so many pasta noodles and he didn't want me making enough to feed all of Dauntless. "You saw Four, right?"

"Zeke came and got me," Tris answers miserably. "He said they called him, and when he went down there, Four didn't recognize him. He refused to go anywhere with Zeke, and no one knew what to do. Zeke came to the control room and asked if I could help. Arlene mentioned she's calling Erudite today, but she didn't sound hopeful. I guess something happened…. something about their serum shipments going missing and Dauntless not helping the way Erudite wanted. Everyone seemed really irritated and Four is just…he has no idea what's going on."

"Did you take him home?" I reach for the blanket I've brought out here. My theory about the heat not working was correct; I'd checked it earlier, and it said off. I didn't know how to turn it on, so I had no choice but to find a blanket in the hallway closet and try to stay warm. "I saw Evelyn inject him. She tried to do it to me, too."

"I know he felt awful she was coming after you," Tris answers lowly. "He told me a few times he'd asked her to leave you out of it. The guy…Landon…he was the one who wanted you involved. Four didn't think it was right. He said he understood why she wanted change, but it got messy before he could control it."

I stay quiet, and I pull the blanket up higher.

"Four…he didn't mean for any of this to happen. But he shouldn't have been helping Evelyn and this seems like payback for going against the Dauntless faction. I did take him home. Arlene thinks he got a low dose, and they're hoping it'll just wear off. She said the problem is, they won't know what's in it until they get the results back and he got really upset when they tried to do the bloodwork." Tris says all this slowly, pausing to look at me.

Her stare is much kinder now, but visibly stressed.

"I stayed with him last night. He didn't want me to leave," she blurts out. "I didn't tell Jeremy. I just…said I didn't feel well, but I'm sure he knows I was there. I haven't heard from him at all today."

"Do you want me to find out where Jeremy is? I don't really know him, but I can ask Eric," I offer, and I sit up straighter. I decide I like Tris. She might not like me, nor does she have any real reason to, but if I plan on staying here, I hope we'll someday be friends. "You know what? I could ask Eric's dad to help. He might know what to do."

"I don't know who his father is," Tris presses her palms to her eyes, and she swears softly. "Shit. I didn't even tell Christina this. I don't know why I'm telling you. I heard about your dad and I thought…I just…I needed to tell someone and she'll tell the whole faction."

"I won't tell anyone," I promise, and not just because my social circle here is limited to Eric and his friends. "Eric's dad works as a neurosurgeon in Erudite. He was able to help my dad get his memory back. Maybe I can call him and see if he can help Four."

"Do you think it'll wear off?" Tris looks up, and she startles when someone knocks on the door. "Is that Eric?"

"I don't think so," I answer, sliding off the couch. "Hold on. Let me see who's there."

I reach the door before she can respond, and I idly wonder if it's Quinten. I open the door expecting dinner, and instead, I find Rylan, with his hair braided back on both sides. He smiles widely, then looks surprised when he spies Tris sitting there, and his hands fly to his hips as his stare turns accusatory.

"Are you having a party?"

"Oh, yeah, totally," I point to Tris doing her best not to look like she's about to burst into tears, and I stare up at him, shaking my head. "I ran into her in the mess hall. She's really upset about Four so we came up here to talk."

"Yeah, well I'm really upset about being banned from the infirmary. What if I fall down the stairs?" He looks past me, and his insulted look lessens. "Is she alright? I heard Frank was questionable at best. Though Arlene isn't a reliable source of information these days."

"No, she's not. I was thinking that maybe…" I pause when he leans against the doorway, striking a pose for absolutely no one.

"Maybe….?" He looks at me expectantly. "Maybe what?"

"I could call Daniel." I hope he thinks this is a good idea, because my guess is Eric would say it is not.

Especially after the dinner.

"Not for me. Just to see if he can come and help Four. Or you could take Four there. He might be able to give him what he gave my dad." I offer, and Rylan's eyes light up.

"You want me, to take Frank to go see Daniel? I'm in. I enjoy long trips to Erudite under the pale moonlight with your husband's arch nemesis. Frank should be honored."

"His name is Four," I try not to laugh, because Rylan looks absolutely delighted. I also immediately regret asking him, because he's way too enthused for his own good. "You know what? Never mind. I should ask Eric first. He might not want me to call."

"Oh, he's definitely not going to want you to call his father. Not even if Daniel could save the entire world. I heard about your dinner," he whispers the last part, and he drops his head. "I called Daniel after Eric told me about it. He's devastated over how it went. He was hoping he'd get to have you as a daughter in law and maybe get to know his own son, too. For the first time in his life. It doesn't sound like things are going very well in Coulterland these days."

"He was devastated? He just sat there while she came after me!" I blurt out. "Blythe accused me of getting pregnant so Eric would have to bring me here."

"Yeah, I heard that, too. The baby bet is on, but it's not that."

"What?!" I shriek this louder than necessary, and from the couch, Tris lowly asks if I'm alright. Which is too kind, considering she's the one in distress. "What baby bet?!"

"Well, the bringing you here bet is over. The marriage one is, too. He's robbing us of every chance to celebrate, but he can't hide a child. At least not forever." Rylan stares at me, and he dares to glance down toward my stomach. "You don't look pregnant, though."

"That's because I'm not," I hotly inform him, and he shrugs nonchalantly.

"Yeah, well…not that you know of."

"Rylan…is there a reason you came by?" I cross my arms over my chest, and I hope Tris hasn't overheard any of this. "Eric isn't here. He's in Candor."

"Yeah, that's just it. He's on his way back. I'm supposed to come get you and give you a tour of the control room. Then he's taking you to dinner. He said I can join you guys, as his best friend in the entire world. I suppose you could bring…uh…Frank's ex over there."

He smiles over my head at Tris, and she smiles back.

It's weak, but it's there.

"I'll ask her," I pause for a second, and I look back up at him. "Do you think Daniel could help him? I don't know either one very well, but I don't want Tris to be upset. Or Four to lose his memory forever."

"Oh Everly. You're way too nice," Rylan sighs. "Who knows? I'll text him. The last time I called, he was at work, and it sounded like he was avoiding Blythe. I'll make it sound like it was my idea. That's probably the safest option. If Daniel can help him, Eric will make them both sweat until he approves it. It'll be less…insulting coming from me."

"Sounds good."

I smile up at him, figuring this might work even better. There is a large chance Eric would refuse to involve his father, especially considering he doesn't like Four. I don't have any personal ties to Daniel, and the thought of seeing him again makes me queasy.

But maybe Rylan could convince him, and at least we'd have tried.

Tris isn't so convinced.

I explain this as I sit back down on the couch, and she strangely declines to have dinner with Eric and me.

The control room is much larger than I could ever have imagined.

There are rows of countless screens and monitors, dozens of people working, and a few wandering around with coffee. Some are yawning, and Rylan whispers they've been here since early this morning. The others are yawning because they just got here and will work all night to monitor the cameras in each faction.

Most are dressed casually. None of them wear an official uniform, and there's a stark contrast between them and Rylan. One guy waves, his dark shirt and dark pants covered in rips and tears, and he quickly types away on the keyboard in front of him. I watch his screen while I walk along the back row; the visual changes quickly from a forest to the side of a barn, and Amity glows beneath the setting sun.

I wait for the punch of homesickness, but there is none.

Only a strange feeling of finality, like that chapter of my life has closed.

"Why is she in here?"

The blonde woman I've only seen once before eyes me like I have no reason to be here. I don't, but it's unlikely she knows that.

"Protocol. Eric wanted her to see the control room," Rylan stares at her with more authority than one would expect. "Why are you in here?"

"I work here," she snaps. "I've overseen the control room for years. And we don't allow guests."

"Okay, well tell that to your leader. Eric wanted her to stop by here. Chill. She's not taking over your job," he ignores her pressing stare, and turns to wink at me. "Everly, this is Kacie. Resident reptilian and overlord of the control room. She does the scheduling."

He reaches over to sling his arm around her neck, and she shoves him away with pure disgust.

"Funny. I do way more than scheduling. Are you…planning on working in here?" Kacie eyes me up and down before turning to Rylan. "Is she an official member of Dauntless?"

"Oh, she's official," he responds cheerfully, but my attention is caught by the screens. I step away from them to go over to Rylan's friend, and I stand just off to the side. When he clicks a few buttons, I'm rewarded with Harrison, strolling down the pathway. He's wearing his Dauntless uniform, and he waves to someone I can't see.

Zander, also dressed in black, is walking with him.

His hand is in Harrison's and together they head toward the Dome.

"That's uh…rumor is that's his kid," the guy looks up at me, and he throws me a small grin. "I'm Will. I know you're Everly."

"It's nice to meet you," I smile back, and I watch Harrison pick Zander up to show him something in a tree. "Have you been watching him for a while?"

"All day," Will points to a running timeline on the bottom of the screen. "Harrison is their new leader. So, we have to keep eyes on him. He's even got a team there to make sure no one comes after him. It's pretty cool. I thought he'd be working but he's been with the little boy all day. Kinda cute. Kids don't normally like anyone in uniform."

"His name is Zander," I wish I could see them better. Harrison holds Zander up higher, and Zander laughs. "He's my little brother."

The wistful tone in my voice is mixed with jealousy. It's hard to miss how happy Harrison and Zander are, even on a grainy video feed. But a larger part of me is happy, because Zander will get to spend more time with Harrison. Or if everything works in their favor, he'll get to grow up with him.

"Oh, yeah. I know you're from Amity. I had to watch you one day. You and some guy looking at flowers," Will cranes his head back to squint at me, but there's nothing condescending in his tone. "I learned a lot about your water system, actually. I was assigned to you for a few weeks, and your dad. Or…uh, the other dad. Wait, you know about Harrison right? It's a wild story. Everyone was shocked to hear his daughter was coming here. If it's actually true."

"I do know about him. He is my father, but…" I pause, and Rylan must catch the disheartened look on my face. He leaps away from Kacie dramatically, and knocks someone out of the way in the process of trying to get back to me. "…he's gone now. He's in Amity for a while."

"He'll be back," Rylan interrupts, and he crashes into Will before steadying them both. "There's a meeting next week. He'll be here as the representative from Amity. I just learned this today."

"Oh," I perk up, and I figure maybe I'll be able to eat lunch with him. "Well, then I'll see him here. And maybe Zander."

"Highly likely. I'd like Zander to come back, too. I want to show him the shooting range," Rylan thinks out loud, and he elbows Will and demands to know how late he's working.

I turn back to the screen and I watch them move on from the tree. Harrison points out a few things, and Zander is completely engrossed in watching everything he shows him. They eventually leave, and Zander shows Harrison how to run and jump into a pile of snow. We all watch –me, Rylan, and Will –as Harrison willingly follows him.

Watching a leader from Dauntless leap into a snowbank is comical, but it suits him. They stay there, lazy snowflakes falling around them, completely happy and content in the slow world of Amity.

"Trucks three through seven are returning. Clearance approved."

The command comes from one of the computers, small and crackly. My eyes fly to the screen as Will clicks a few buttons, and a different view of Dauntless bursts into sight. I watch the trucks drive up, passing the few waiting soldiers waving them in, and I faintly recognize Eric driving one of them.

He scowls at everyone around him and I can't help but feel my heart speed up at the sight.

"I missed you."

Eric says this against my throat. Both of his hands are in my hair, gently pushing my head back to expose the bare skin of my neck, and he's warm. He's everywhere. His uniform is rough when it touches my bare skin, and he walks us back, right into the jagged part of the wall.

I'd found him a few minutes ago.

Rylan walked me down to the docking bay, and I stood to the side while the soldiers climbed out of the trucks. Eric wasn't the only one returning; the bay came alive with men and women arriving from whatever patrol they had been on. The atmosphere was surprisingly cheerful. It seemed most enjoyed their work, and whatever mission they had been on was successful.

Eric found me a second after he climbed out of the truck. He turned to glance over his shoulder, and his gaze went right to me. He stared unabashedly, slamming the door without looking away, before marching over to me despite someone calling out his name.

Whatever they needed him for –a signature, some approval on something, or maybe even some information he wanted –paled in comparison to him needing to get close to me. A few seconds later, he took me by the hand, and a good ten steps later, his hands sought out my waist and we were cloaked in darkness.

I liked it.

I liked the slow cold that Dauntless held. I liked the way everything felt dangerous, like the rocky edges stabbing into my back and the lack of restraint Eric had. Back in Amity, his self-control was questionable. A Dauntless soldier showing up to visit someone for lunch wasn't unheard of, but it was frowned upon. Our loyalty should have been with our factions. Eric quickly got around this by taking it upon himself to look out for me, and the result was the slow crumble of any lingering walls between us.

I got to see who he was, but also who I was.

And that was someone who was currently being lifted into the air, so Eric has a better vantage point.

"Did you have fun with Rylan?" He's not exactly nipping at my skin, but something sharper and more precise. He's still careful; any mark he leaves is not out of anger or rage, but warm, bubbling lust.

I keep wondering if it will boil over into love.

"He showed me the control room," I try to explain, but Eric is too much for me to focus on anything but him. He's shoved his leg between mine to help me balance, and his hands work quickly to slide beneath the skirt. One reaches my waist, and he pulls me toward his chest while his mouth finds mine. "I saw you driving. How was Candor?"

I use this rare moment of distraction to touch his face. I put my hands on both sides while he kisses me, and I giggle against his lips when I feel him smile.

"Boring."

He kisses me harder, over and over, until he breaks away with a heavy sigh and announces we're late for dinner.

The next few days are exciting.

On a sunnier one, I find myself on the roof, my back pressed against Eric's chest, and his leg between mine. His hands cover my own, and he bends down until his lips graze my ear.

"Shoot whenever you're ready."

Up here, the air is freezing. It's electric, though. The initiation class, now almost done and prepping for their final few weeks, is out here practicing. The girl leading them is loud; she commands them forcefully, but with some exasperation. They are lined up in neat rows, and their objective, barked at them while she walks back and forth to adjust their positions, is to hit the varying targets. Some are farther out than others, and some are way easier, but Eric has only given me one to hit.

The fact that he even brought me up here is crazy.

"Okay," I steady myself, tightening my grip on the cold metal, and I focus on the zombie face before me.

Eric had suggested we come up here this morning. I thought he was kidding. He said it seriously, lacing up his boots with a vengeance and watching me linger by the dresser. He had on his full uniform and it brought a wave of disappointment.

I had quickly learned that when he got dressed, really dressed, it meant I wouldn't see him until he returned home. Our time in Amity was special because he'd carved it out of his day, and he did the same here. But in Dauntless, he was easily accessible, more so because someone usually could find him. He wasn't off in another faction or able to shrug off someone needing his attention. He was here, in his own faction, responsible for what went on.

In spite of all this, I liked him in uniform. It accentuated how handsome he was, and it made him look powerful. Strong.

Invincible.

Like now, as he trained me how to shoot a gun.

"I'm hoping you'll never need to know this, but odds are, at some point, someone will try to kill you again." Eric informs me of this easily. "Harrison and I agreed I'd train you in a few areas, as a preventive measure. Everyone here knows how to use a firearm, so you should, too."

He's patient.

He waits for me to nod, then he brings his arms in encouragingly. I try to remember the instructions he'd given me: steady myself, aim the gun, and shoot before I doubt what I'm doing. This lesson isn't at all what I had been expecting, but it feels fitting.

It feels even better when I squeeze the trigger. I'm immediately pushed back into Eric's chest. The recoil is far more powerful than I had thought it would be, and I'm lucky Eric is behind me. He keeps me upright, and we stare at the target together.

My shot isn't dead center, but it's close.

"Nice work, Amity. You're better than half of Lauren's class," Eric announces loudly, mostly so Lauren can hear him. She whirls around on the heel of her boot, and her gaze is annoyed.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Are you and your…whoever she is…done? You're taking up a target I need." She flounces by us with a sneer that would rival Eric's, but there's a flicker of something else beneath it. She eyes me up and down in an attempt to intimidate me, and oddly enough, I'm not.

She looks an awful lot like me.

Like an alternate version of me.

We're roughly the same size. Her hair is dark, not black, but close enough, and pulled up severely. It swings behind her while she walks, and there's an easy authority to her that I don't have.

Not yet, at least.

She's a little stronger looking than I am. Her uniform is leggings and a long-sleeved shirt, and no jacket. She's fit, seemingly fearless, and somewhat intimidating. I still feel like I could take her if I tried. Or at the very least, it would be an even match.

"Who is she?" I half whisper to Eric, leaning back into him while she glances back. She doesn't like this at all. Her gaze is fiery when he snickers, and downright annoyed when his cheek touches mine. "I think she hates me."

"She does," he answers cheekily, and to my surprise, he doesn't say she's no one. "She's the trainer for the Dauntless born. She grew up here, is tougher than nails, and dislikes almost everyone. Harrison is her idol."

"Oh," I fall quiet, because she's sounding like the perfect partner for Eric. "She's –"

"She's a good trainer. That's it. She'd be like fucking a cactus," he interrupts dryly, and he pulls me back a step. "Tomorrow, I'll train you how to fight. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be able to take her. If the need be."

"Good," I like this idea, and he likes that I like it. "Should I shoot the target again?"

"Whenever you're ready. Keep firing until it's empty."

The next few minutes go by quickly. Eric stays in place, occasionally having me move forward or backward. By the time I'm done, the target is riddled with bullet holes, and I have a brand new respect for everyone who carries such a weapon.

"Take a break," Eric throws out, and he answers his phone while I slip away to grab some water. I take a seat on the edge of the roof, one of the lower railings that's wide and a few feet away from the very edge, and I enjoy a few minutes in the warm sun. I take a sip of water while I watch him pace back and forth.

It's a nice opportunity to observe him. Eric is always on alert, always on edge, and it's rare he isn't focused on me. He's busy snarling at someone on the phone, and he talks quickly. Every so often, he watches Lauren's class. He observes them as they change places, now instructed to run and shoot at the same time, and he nods at a few.

I watch them, too.

Most are really good. Some are great. I manage to spy Jake and Karl at the very end, and this is cake for them. They excel as they nail every shot, and they high five each other once they're done.

They even laugh, though only when Lauren is far enough away to not see them.

I fix my hair while the class rotates. I sit up a little as Lauren heads back, and she marches behind the rows, never taking her eyes off them. I think about Eric saying she's a good trainer, and it shows. She offers curt yet helpful criticism to a few and adjusts a few with their stance. They all listen, and I only look away when Eric sits down by me.

"Is this all of them? What happened to the ones who haven't made it this far?" I turn to look at him, and he takes up all the free space next to me. His legs are spread wide, and he nudges my foot with his. "Are they factionless?"

"Most were made factionless. After the Evelyn fiasco, we're toying with the idea of going out and finding them. Tori and I were talking, and we came to the agreement that we're creating our own enemies. If we only accept ten out of two hundred, we have a hundred and ninety trained men and women who don't view us very favorably."

"Would you make them members? Like the factionless who joined you?" I nudge his foot back with mine. The boots I have on are just as shiny as his, and he smirks. "What?"

"In a way," he answers, but he's distracted. "It's a little more complicated than that, but they would live here. We can keep an eye on them, and they'd work for us. It's more to our advantage than anything else."

"Sounds reasonable," I offer, but I know zero about the Dauntless faction and how they run their army. The only thing I do know is the initiation here looks way more complicated than Amity's, and a lot more interesting than learning how to grow lettuce. "Do you want me to practice shooting again?"

Eric looks at me, scooting closer as Lauren throws us a funny look, and he shakes his head.

"I was thinking we'd take the afternoon off."

He takes my hand in his, examining my fingers intently, and he pulls me along as he stands up. We stay in place for a moment. Eric watches Lauren's class with faint approval, until they cease fire. Once she informs them it's time to switch, he tightens his fingers through mine.

Oddly enough, his stare isn't on Lauren, or even the initiates looking back at him.

He's staring at Karl, with a hint of something I don't quite get.

"How are you feeling?"

Four and I sit outside, on one of the lower roofs. I like this space; it's been made into a dining area of sorts. There are dozens of tables, a tiny café offering small bites like chips and salsa and salads, and plenty of soldiers milling around. Some are fixing the umbrellas over the tables, all black and worn looking, and some are practicing walking along the raised edges. The snow fall has let up for now and the air holds the promise of respite from the flurries.

It feels amazing. The ground is cold and wet, and the air is icy, but there are plenty of fires roaring. Back in Amity, we'd have bonfires going, and here, they are in empty, rusting trash cans. The effect is the same: the roof is warmer than expected, and it's drawn out everyone craving fresh air.

Four eyes everyone around us warily, and he winces when someone walking along the railing stumbles, nearly falling right off into nothingness.

"I feel fine. How are you?" He looks back at me, and his stare is blank.

This is totally expected. After a few days spent with Arlene, it was officially confirmed he'd been given a hack dose of the memory loss serum. His own mother had chosen to stab him with it, and that pissed me off more than anything. I knew little of their situation, but I couldn't wrap my head around anyone feeling like they had the right to mess with someone's mind in such a permanent way. Arlene had given Four a diagnosis of Serum Induced Amnesia. She was hoping it was temporary, and the labs here –a very minor subset of what Erudite had –believed it would wear off.

The only catch was no one knew when.

After multiple visits to Arlene, an afternoon with Rylan, a few hours with Jason, and most of the nights with Tris, it was my turn to hang out with Four. Eric announced this with great displeasure. His stare was heavy with ridicule at the idea of Four needing a babysitter, and the irony of me showing Four around Dauntless wasn't lost on him. I had barely figured out how to get to the shop where Christina worked, so I didn't feel like an actual human being should be my responsibility.

Nevertheless, Eric insisted. Apparently, Jack Kang decided he wanted all the Dauntless leaders in a meeting, and since Tris had to work, I was to hang out with Four until she could take him home.

In some ways, I felt sorry for him. He and I both hadn't fit into our factions, though his reasons were drastically different from mine. I decided I'd use this time to try and be his friend, but so far, it was like talking to a wall.

"What's your name again? Ella? Ellery?"

"It's Everly," I nudge his plate at him, hoping he remembers he's supposed to eat. I wasn't sure what the serum made you forget. He looked fine; his hair looked better than I'd seen it, and he didn't look so tired. But his shirt was green, his pants were black, and his jacket was new. So was the bracelet on his wrist.

Upon further inspection, I realize there's a very tiny tag on it with a slew of numbers, and I would bet my own lunch it was linked to his card here. Someone had the foresight to keep it on him, just in case he wandered off and couldn't tell anyone where he belonged.

"Okay, Everly," he shrugs, and he reaches for the drink I bought. I didn't know what he liked, so I picked out something that sounded good and seemed reasonably caffeinated. "I swear Ryan said your name is something else."

"Rylan," I gently correct him. "I think he was joking. My name is Everly. But uh, I'm really glad we're having lunch together. It's nice out here."

He closes his eyes.

I try not to laugh, because he reminds me of Zander. He looks like he's having anything but fun, though he eventually opens them with a sigh of exasperation.

"You don't have to pretend to be nice. I know you've been forced to hang out with me since I don't know what's going on. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to not remember anything? Or be told that I can't remember anything? Everyone keeps saying this will wear off, but I don't even know what it is."

"Oh, did Tris tell you what happened?" I take a bite of my salad, and I watch him carefully. His expression changes slightly, mostly at her name. "She said she was staying with you."

"She told me I was injected with a serum that made me lose my memory. I guess it's true. I don't remember what I do here or how I got injected." Four takes a bite of his own salad like he doesn't trust it. "She said it was my mother who did it."

There is no bitterness in his words, though there should be.

"Do you remember Tris?" I change the subject slightly; I'm not an expert on his mother, and I wouldn't even consider us friendly enough to talk about her. He'd given me the barest details of their relationship. It was strikingly similar to Eric's mother: both were absent while they grew up, yet both expected them to help out now, with an array of strings attached.

"I…" Four pauses, and he throws an empty smile as someone says hello. "It's like I know the memory of her. I can't remember a single interaction we've had, or who she is, but I feel like…like there's something important about her."

"There is," I confirm immediately, and I'm optimistic.

The Four I'd met back in Amity would have never told me any of this. He liked his privacy, had only asked my name because I was being used in Evelyn's war, and in some last ditch attempt to stop her, he'd stuck up for me. My knowledge of his and Tris' relationship was also minimal. She was visibly upset by what had happened to him, and now he was subconsciously finding comfort in her.

This is good.

At least I think it is.

"Great. Except, I can't remember her or who she is. Your husband doesn't trust me to be alone for two minutes, and you're making me eat…this for lunch." Four narrows his eyes at me, then frowns even further when Stella scurries by. She's dressed in scrubs, and she walks with someone else from the infirmary. "Do I know her? She looks familiar."

His stare is curious and a wave of horror washes over me.

The last thing I need is for him to start some weird, amnesiac romance with the nurse who took his temperature.

"Oh, no. I don't think so. But you do know Tris. Very well. Do you remember…going…. for a walk with her?" I blurt out quickly, doing my best to think of something the two of them might have done. "Or the time you went shopping? And you loved it? You stayed there for hours."

"Uh, no." Four swallows down a bite of the lunch he hates, and he shakes his head. "Were you there?"

"Yes," I make this up completely, and I perk up when I see Rylan. He's walking with Karl, and they split the second he sees me. He bounces over to the table with great enthusiasm, then flops down into the empty seat.

"Everly! Frank! What's up! I just got back. Eric should be here in a half hour. He got stuck with Max and Jack. How's…lunch?" Rylan eyes the food just as suspiciously as Four did, and he shakes his head. "Why are you eating here? Quinten would have made you something better. Everyone knows this is the last resort when it comes to dining."

"This is fine. It's good," I protest, and Four rolls his eyes.

"It's not good."

"For once, I agree with Frank," Rylan wrinkles his nose. "You uh, remember anything yet?"

"No, should I?" Four stares at him, and his mood sours. "And my name isn't Frank."

"Can you even be sure of that?" Rylan laughs, and his hair is pulled up into an exaggerated bun. "Hey, do you guys want to go to the New Year's party with us? Christina and I are going, and I thought it would be fun if we all went. Jason and Megalodon are going. Jeremy bitched the entire time that he doesn't want to go, so I was thinking maybe uh, Tris and Frank can go together. Eric said Jeremy can work security since he's being a whiny little bitch."

"No thanks," Four answers flatly, and I glare at him. "What! I don't even know what New Year's is, or why we'd be having a party. And I doubt Tris wants to go with me. She keeps…running off to work."

"Yeah, well she does have a job here. I could ask Kacie not to schedule her." Rylan is oddly helpful, until he's not. "Hey, not to be the mood killer here, but uh, the request to go to Erudite was denied."

"What request?" I stare at him in confusion, and he frowns at Four. He then forces a smile, until Four looks away.

"I brought it up to Eric. He's not entirely convinced, but he did agree it wouldn't hurt to have someone check out what's going on. He tried to angle it that we need to know what we're up against, but uh, Jeanine denied it. She said Four can be treated here, and then she and Eric got into some screaming match on the phone and he missed our exit to Candor and blamed me."

My eyes widen.

"And to think he dares critique my driving. But don't worry, he wasn't yelling about Four," Rylan whispers, and he flashes Four a blinding smile. "It was about something else. He didn't go to some meeting this morning and instead went to Candor. Jeanine didn't appreciate that or being left out of the Candor meeting. Except no one invited her there."

"Is Eric going to get in trouble?" I half whisper back.

Four busies himself by eating his salad. He's not particularly invested in our conversation anymore, and every so often, he looks around. He stops when he stares at Stella, and I kick him under the table. His gaze whips to me, accusatory as ever.

"Did you just kick me?"

"Nah, Eric never gets in trouble. He'll kill Jeanine if she gets too annoying. She's just…her demands are out of control. But anyway, I thought I could slip it in but it didn't go over very well. He's been on the warpath ever since. It's up to you to calm Eric down. Otherwise, he'll destroy the faction in a fit of rage."

"Your husband sounds fun," Four glowers, and he crosses his arms over his chest. "How long do I have to stay here? Can I go home?"

"I don't know where you live. And Eric's isn't…" I pause when I catch Rylan starting to smile, and I glare at him. "He won't admit anything to me. I asked him if we were married the other day and he just…sort of smirked."

"Sounds about right."

"You don't know if you're married? Are you sure you didn't have your memory erased?" Four interrupts, and his face is completely serious. He then cracks the barest hint of a smile, and it takes me a second to realize he's kidding. "I'm joking, Ellery."

"My name is Everly!" I glare at him, ignoring Rylan's bark of laughter. "You know what, you two can hang out. I'm going to find Eric and I'm asking him what paperwork I signed. I should have read it better."

"Yeah, you definitely should have. I'm pretty sure he made it so you can't ever divorce him. He's strangely romantic that way."

"How old are you?" Four looks up at me when I stand up, and Rylan laughs even harder. "What? How are you married? Eric seems like an ass."

"Oh, Frank. You have no idea. But if you come with me, I'll take you to Quinten. He can make us hot dogs and I'll fill you in on the world of Mr. and Mrs. Eric Coulter." Rylan shoves the salad away from Four, and he salutes me. "Good luck with Eric. Let me know if I should warn everyone his rampage can't be contained."

"I will," I announce, and I hesitate only for a second. "Are you sure you'll be okay? You and Four?"

"Everly," Rylan grins, and I realize I might have just made the worst decision of my life. "Go. Four and I will have a blast together. I've been waiting for this moment my entire life."

"Really? This specific moment? The one where Four doesn't remember who he is, and I'm going to go call Eric to make sure he's calm enough to return to Dauntless and ask him if he married me without telling me, and you and Four are going to get hotdogs?"

"All of it. Every single bit," Rylan answers seriously. "Bye Coulter. See you later."

"Yeah, bye. Thank you for lunch, but I have to admit it was terrible."

I can't bring myself to glare at him or Four.

I leave the roof in a huff, determined to get a hold of my maybe or maybe not husband.

He doesn't answer.

Not once.

Not twice.

Not even three times.

I finally get a text after a few minutes, and it thinly informs me he'll be home soon, and he has a headache.

I sigh into a dark hallway, hating that Rylan wasn't lying at all about Eric's mood.

The market is less crowded today.

Eric walks along with me, a half step ahead, but he keeps my hand in his. Ever since his return yesterday, his mood had been questionable at best. It wasn't aimed at me, but we both shared a sense of frustration at one another.

I didn't know how to help him shake the crappy mood, and he clearly had never had anyone around him when he was in such a state.

He'd stormed back into the faction with the rage of ten thousand angry bees. He swore as he took the steps two at a time, and he barely noticed me waiting for him. The first time I'd stood there awaiting his return had some thinly veiled romance to it; I got the impression he'd returned from several patrols or outings alone, while his friends had significant others waiting for them. The second time I had the chance to see him arrive, he stalked past me so quickly I had whiplash. He was on the phone, seething over some orders he wasn't happy with, and he verbalized the person on the other end had better see his point of view, and quickly.

The night didn't get much better.

He turned on his heel to see me there, and he motioned for me to follow him. He spent the rest of his evening looking oddly exasperated by every single thing about his apartment. He nearly stepped on me when I tried to slink behind him to get some water, and he scowled when I put my fork in the sink. He slammed his paperwork down in a fit of childish rage, still not aimed at me, and he hissed when his phone rang. To be fair, it rang twenty-six times. He answered all but three of the calls, and each one spanned longer than either of us would have liked.

Eventually, he was done answering his phone because it died. I tried to sit by him when he turned on the TV, and I was rewarded with a blank stare of confusion. It was like he'd forgotten I was here. This stung, so much that I recoiled away from him, and mumbled I was going to bed. I'd spent a lot of my life feeling like an afterthought, but coming from him, it was brutal.

So brutal I stood in his bathroom, struggling not to cry. The feeling was overwhelming and crappy. I was alone here, even with the few meager friends I'd made. I could probably call Rylan or Jason if things got really bad, or maybe even Christina. I could go see Linda and beg her to let me stay for a few hours, even though I'd only met her once.

Arlene was my absolute last resort.

I contemplated faking a headache and maybe asking to sleep down there.

Once I was done choking on this made up rejection, I tried to think things through logically. Eric had flat out told me no one spent the night, let alone lived with him. My presence, no longer minimal as he kicked my book out of the way and sighed when he found a hair tie that had fallen onto the couch cushion, had to be strange to him. He'd been alone for years. This probably wasn't the first night he'd come home in a shitty mood, but it was the first night someone else was here to deal with it.

I felt as defeated as ever.

I liked him.

I more than liked him, and not just because he was giving me a chance to have a life here. I liked our time together, and I was suddenly experiencing what it was like to have a life of my own. Even with Eric heavily involved, this was all new to me.

Including trying to navigate a relationship with someone who couldn't tell me he'd married me.

So, I gave him his space.

I brushed my teeth with toothpaste that suddenly tasted far too strong, and I put my toothbrush back next to his. I went to bed without telling him, curling up on my own side, away from his, and I gave him as much of his own bed as he wanted. If he really pressed, I could slip away into the guest room.

After years of having Zander decide he wanted to sleep next to me, I completely understood Eric's desire to be left alone.

I was as surprised as ever when I woke up against his chest. I wasn't even just against his chest like I'd moved closer to him and thrown my arms over him in search of warmth. He was on my side of the bed, and he'd thrown his arm over me. His leg was over me too, an unconscious attempt at keeping me close, and he was heavy. Hot. Dead asleep with more than a hint of exhaustion to him. I laid there for a while, examining his face and every twitch and slight movement, and he eventually opened his eyes.

He was sorry.

I could tell, even though he wasn't able to say it. He chewed on the side of his lip while his eyes blinked away the lingering sleep, and he shook his head. He was laying on my pillow, so close that if I moved, I'd fall off the bed, and he had to be hot. His emotions ran a gamut from remorse to straight up well disguised panic.

"It's okay."

I forgave him without any hesitation. Whatever he was furious over was dulled in the morning, and once we'd both gotten ready, he asked if I wanted to join him at the market. I immediately agreed, and he looked pleased when I reached for his hand, and my fingers slid right between his.

"I was thinking we should buy a table for the kitchen."

Now, he murmurs the words so only I can hear him, like this is a secret mission. Domestic bliss might be, given his aversion to clearing anything up relating to our marital status. I hadn't pushed the issue on the drive over here, and instead, I'd sat close to him, and examined the fingers on his free hand while he drove faster than was necessary.

"Do they have them here?" I crane my head up to look at him, and we both ignore the stares from a few of the people shopping.

The further we go into the market, the more crowded it becomes. It's nowhere near as busy as it was last time, but the cold might have officially scared everyone off. The ones shopping here have purpose; a woman bargains for six eggs, claiming they're too expensive even though they're boasted as being the best eggs out of every faction. Carole argues back the woman can take it or leave it, and next to her, someone I faintly recognize is selling homemade jam.

They both look up as I walk by, and I smile in their direction.

For a second, they don't smile back, because it's like neither recognize me. Each one stares at my hand in Eric's, then my outfit. The leggings he'd tossed at me are warmer than I would have imagined, and my shirt is his. It's a warm button-down, far too large but perfect over a tank top, and I'd left my boots unlaced halfway. Rylan wore his like this, though he was often seconds away from tripping over his, but I tied mine after wrapping the laces around my ankles a few times. I pulled my hair up into a bun, not wanting to spend much time pushing it out of my face, and it was loopy and messy and not at all like the edgy styles favored in Dauntless.

It was strange that an outfit made me feel different. Much like the black dress I'd walked through Amity in, this felt powerful, too. It wasn't overly girly or youthful, but it felt like something a member of Dauntless would wear. Eric liked it, too, if only because the shirt was his and he'd bought the boots for me.

Carole finally throws me the faintest of smiles, but her eyes narrow suspiciously, especially as Eric's hand leaves mine to point at the furniture in the distance.

"Over there. The guy salvages one of a kind pieces. I get all my furniture from him," Eric announces loudly, and I wonder if he'd ever eaten at a regular kitchen table. Everything he's pointing at is black or less black, and he has much nicer taste than anyone I've ever met. "You coming?"

"Actually, you go ahead and pick one out. I'll be right there," I call back, and I head in the opposite direction.

It's not so much that I have an aversion to kitchen table shopping, for the sheer act is an incredibly telling sign, but because I want to see if there are any more of the books I've been reading. I hadn't finished the second one yet, but I hadn't seen any more of them on Eric's bookshelf. I had gotten lucky that he had the first two, but now I was hoping to find another one here.

I walk toward the books with all the confidence in the world.

My luck improves when I realize the first row has what I want, but it lessens with the second step I take.

The woman in front of the shelf I need lingers there. She tilts her head up at the top shelf –labeled Improbable YA fiction –and her fingers press on a few titles. She selects none, and sighs dejectedly.

I stand frozen in place, right up until Camille glances in my direction. Her eyes widen in disbelief, and I have the urge to bolt to the brain surgery section.

"Everly! Wait!"

She can tell I'm ready to leave. Camille takes off without picking out a book, though I didn't really expect her to be over here. She moves quickly through the row, and she's in front of me in a few seconds. I look up at her with absolutely no clue what to say.

Or knowledge of why she'd want to talk to me.

The last time I saw her, she was here with Daniel. She hadn't been at the dinner with him and Blythe, but I wish she had. Maybe she'd have stuck up for me.

Actually, judging from the determined look on her face, she'd have clocked Blythe on my behalf. I try to smile, but I know it's wobbly at best.

"Hi! Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you," Camille says quickly, and she stops so close we're practically touching. "I wanted to talk to you before you ran. You look a little skittish."

"I wasn't…okay, I was going to leave. I just came over here to look for a book," I admit just as quickly, and I cross my arms over my chest. "Why do you need to talk to me?"

"Um," Despite her position with Daniel and years of living in Erudite, she fumbles for the words. She sneaks a glance left and right to make sure no one is listening and drops her head down. "I wanted to tell you I'm really sorry about the dinner. You have no idea how upset Daniel is. He's been really worked up over what happened."

I stare up at her.

She's very pretty.

Her brown hair is down and longer than I expected, and she's much softer looking than Blythe.

"How do you know about the dinner?"

"Daniel told me. He left the restaurant after you did, and he called me to tell me he'd made a terrible mistake. He's been sick over not saying anything." Camille pauses, and I find this hard to believe. "I know, you're probably thinking, why didn't he say something? But…it's a complicated situation. He's been trying to get a hold of Eric since it happened to explain what's going on."

"Blythe said some really terrible things to me," I point out, and I take a step back from her. Talking about the dinner brought up a lot of feelings, including a familiar wave of sea sickness. "Eric's father didn't say anything. He just…he let Blythe accuse me of trying to trick Eric into bringing me to Dauntless. He could have told her to stop."

"I know," Camille says softly. "Trust me, he's incredibly embarrassed and horrified she acted like that. It's not the first time she's ruined one of their dinners."

I shrug because I don't know what to say. It was nice he felt bad, but it hardly made up for accusing me of being an absolute moron who was only here because Eric liked to have sex with me.

"He could call you. Maybe you guys could talk." Camille's suggestion is hopeful, but I don't know what to say. She can tell this, too. She looks defeated, and her lips turn downward. "Daniel told me everything. You don't deserve a single word Blythe said to you. She's not…Dr. Coulter is not the nicest woman out there. They don't really see eye to eye anymore."

"What is he doing right now?" I ask curiously, hoping he was filing for divorce. If that were even a thing. "Why didn't he stop her? She's a terrible person."

"Tell me about it," Camille smiles, and it falters when her stare slides over my shoulder. "Hi, Eric."

"What are you doing with Everly?"

Eric's words are sharp. He walks toward her slowly, distrustful as ever, and his hand immediately takes hold of mine. He pulls me away from her, but his possessiveness isn't unexpected. Camille isn't technically any safer than Blythe. While she hasn't insulted me thus far, there was a chance she'd do it the second I turned my back.

I hated not trusting her. I hated that I'd been in a situation which made me not trust anyone from Erudite, especially considering Camille wasn't even there.

"I was apologizing to her. Your father talked to me about the dinner. He's been trying to get a hold of you," Camille stares Eric down, unafraid of his sneer. "You could at least answer his phone call."

"He could have at least told Blythe to shut it," Eric snarls, and his grip grows tighter. I squeeze his hand back in hopes of reassuring him I'm fine, and he gets, but ignores, the message. "Why are you apologizing? Did Daniel send you to make things better? You covering up something else for him?"

"Call your father when you have time. He'd like to make things right," Camille is unbothered. She sounds maternal, more like she's his mother and she's annoyed he'd been ignoring them. "You could at least give him that."

"Why? Because he's such a stellar father? Should I remind you of all the times he's chosen the hospital over anything else? But I think you know that. You're a part of it."

"Eric, it's okay." I step between them, and I smile up at him. His own button-down shirt is darker than mine. It's a checkered print, making him look less severe but somehow more dangerous. I only come up to the middle of his chest, and I unconsciously move closer, so my cheek rests against the warm fabric. "She's just trying to help. She said he's sorry."

"He's a sorry excuse for a father, that's for sure." Eric's words are barked with all the hatred in the world, but I know it's out of hurt. He sounds furious, but if you really listen, there's more to it than what he's saying. "Fuck off, Camille. Blythe has him right where she wants him. Nothing will change. Ever."

"That's not true," she snaps back, and she glances down at me, then back up at him. "He's been…. he's doing a lot. He's not willing to listen to her anymore. He's making some decisions and –"

"This is fascinating and all, but Everly and I are here to pick out a table. Not listen to you try and defend him." Eric says this with a hint of finality. "Tell him to quit calling me. I heard enough the other night."

"Everly…" Camille tries, but Eric is having none of it.

"Leave her alone."

Eric steps back, taking me with him. I glance back at Camille once, and I do my best to smile. Eric still holds onto the same edgy rage from last night, but it fizzles the farther away we get from the books. He never once looks back at her. He takes me over to look at a large black table, big enough for my entire family in Amity, and he evenly informs me this is the one we're getting.

I stay quiet.

I keep my hand in his, holding onto his wrist while the man rings him up and gives him a ridiculously high amount for the table, and I rest my head on his chest while he pays.

The events of the past two days have given me a headache. I close my eyes until Eric asks if I'm okay, and when I open them, Camille hovers near the edge of the furniture, a safe distance away.

Her stare stays on me, and so does her frown.

In the morning, I wake up feeling much better.

The only crummy part is waking up alone, but I ignore that since I know Eric is already at work. I shove the covers back, and I barely make it out of bed before my phone rings.

It's startlingly loud.

I stare at the screen in surprise because no one really calls me. The only person to ever message me was Eric or Rylan, and occasionally Christina. I feel like it's a trick as I answer a number I don't recognize, and I'm greeted by Harrison, cheerfully asking me how I am and quickly informing me he's calling from a backup phone.

"I'm good! Where are you? Are you in Amity? Is…did my dad return? Is Zander okay? Where's my mom?"

My questions tumble out one after the other, and he laughs at my frantic interrogation. It's probably the result of our time always being interrupted. I often felt like the second I got close to him, he was yanked away. Even now, I can hear Zander yelling in the background, and my stomach sinks at his demands.

"I am in Amity. You're speaking to their brand new leader. The first thing I did was make Carole surrender half the chickens she stole from Jerry. She claims he signed something saying she could have them, but experts agree the signature is forged." He pauses, and quietly tells Zander he needs boots on. "Your…your father is here. Hank returned a few days ago. He's doing really well. He told your mother he wanted to live on his own for a while, and he agreed to the kids splitting their time here. I'll be honest, he still looks weak. But he's got a few nurses checking in on him, and I've asked one to stick around. Worst case scenario, we call in Arlene."

"And my mom?" I press the phone tighter to my ear, trying to memorize his voice while ignoring the fact that he called Hank my father. I hadn't grown up with Harrison as my father, but I desperately want him to say he is. "Is she alright?"

His pause is lengthy.

"She's…doing okay. She was shocked to learn he was leaving, and even more shocked to learn he was dead set on it. One of the neighbors helped him move. Nice lady. Your mom feels like maybe she's been holding him back." He stops, and there's a rustling while he helps Zander. "Everyone else is good. Your brothers and sisters miss you terribly. Holly wants to know if you'll be back to visit. Paisley wants your room. Leif and Wesley didn't know you were gone."

"What!" I scowl, and his response is a bark of laughter. "Jerks."

"They miss you. Everyone does. May said it's awfully quiet without you."

"Yeah, well, that's just because there are no more attempted murders," I mutter, and I sit back on the bed. "Are you…are you happy there? Are you staying with my mom?"

"I'm not. I'm staying in the visitor's residences. But I have access to almost everything. Johanna has a lot of shit to go through. I'll be here longer than planned," Harrison sounds unfazed by this.

"Will I see you again?" I hate the way I sound miserable, because I'm not at all. I just don't like the fact that he's in Amity, and I'm in Dauntless. "Will you be back here or –"

"Is Eric taking care of you? Are you okay? You sound a little down," Harrison cuts me off, but it's out of pure concern. "Everly? Are you happy there?"

"I am. I just…I wanted to get to know you. I talked to my dad for a long time and…I'm okay with him leaving. But this feels like you're leaving, too. Only because I'm not there. I'm happy for Zander, though." My wistful tone is heavy, full of an unfair need for him to be in my life. "I'm sorry. It's not my place to ask that of you. I just…it feels wrong to find out who you are, and then you're in another faction again."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with any of that. It is unfair. I hesitated coming here for those exact reasons, but the truth of the matter is, Amity got me or Rylan. He's next up for a major assignment. And if Rylan was placed here, the faction would be nothing but chicken murder investigations and chicken pageants. I'm working to fend off anyone who thinks Amity is an easy target for takeover. But I'll be back. Even if I don't return permanently, I'll see you. I spent too long not being in your life to continue that way."

"Do you promise?" I pull my feet up, and I swallow down the fear of not knowing him. "I know this is sudden but…I just don't want to waste the opportunity."

"Everly, you have my word. I'll be back in a week for a meeting. After that, maybe you and Eric can come out here. I'll tell you anything you want."

"Okay, but you promise? Like, really promise?" I wait for him to answer, and I stare at Eric's nightstand. It is black, and empty except for a phone charger. "Harrison?"

"I promise you. If I don't see you at the meeting, I'll have Eric's head on a platter. Do you promise me you're happy? You sound a little sad."

I'm tempted to tell him about Blythe. He'd looked out for me when it came to Landon, and maybe he'd know what to do about Blythe.

I don't get the chance. Zander demands he go outside to build a snowman, and he shrieks at the top of his lungs when Harrison doesn't hang up immediately.

"Actually, can I call you later?"

"Of course."

He hangs up right after this. I sit on the bed holding the phone in my hands, and I stare at his name for a long time.

His clothes are dark.

I touch the fabrics carefully, so as not to disturb the neat order in his dresser drawer, and I feel a flash of guilt at looking through his things. He hadn't told me not to open up his drawers, and my guess is, if he came back in here and found me holding up a shirt, he wouldn't be mad. He'd probably ask what I was doing, but I don't think he'd be upset.

I reassure myself of this as I pick up a few.

Eric is still a mystery, though it was obvious I had gotten closer to him than most. I'd sat with him on the couch last night, listening to him mumble low insults about Camille while we watched an intern catch the office microwave on fire. He made it very clear he didn't like her. His dislike wasn't on the same level of hatred as his loathing of Blythe, but close. From what I put together, he felt like Camille was just another person who kept his father at the hospital. She worked as his assistant, and the two of them were often there, late. Together. If Daniel wasn't happy with Blythe, like Camille hinted, then Camille was just a tiny reason why.

She probably gave him hope for a better future, but at the same time, she took up precious seconds which could have been directed at Eric.

It wasn't hard to figure out Eric resented his father for not being around. Despite the brash attitude and outright dismissal of needing him, it was a long lasting sting that his dad chose work over him. Even Hank had made time for us. It wasn't until later on that his work became involved and consuming, but he preferred to be with his family.

Eric didn't have that, and he never had.

It's why he's attached to the idea of us and making sure I want him and only him.

He doesn't have to worry.

I shut his dresser drawer once I reach the cold metal of a gun shoved beneath his clothes, and I move on to the next one. Dark boxers, darker boxer briefs, and a few pairs of socks. There are pants a few drawers down, workout clothes, and the occasional heavier shirt.

I hit gold when I reach the last drawer.

It's my paperwork.

My eyes widen as I find it, and I sit down on my heels to rifle through it. There's a rush of bravery at looking at things with my name on them. The first set of paperwork is from the infirmary. Arlene's notes are a scribbled rush of horror at me never having a single check-up past my mother's quick exams back in Amity. There is a long list of shots and vaccines she believes I need. A slew of vitamins. A hint that I might struggle to adjust here, given a lifetime of sunshine and wide-open spaces, and Dauntless offers none. A word of caution that I appear nervous, and I am most definitely not on any birth control.

The second one is paperwork I don't understand. Some sort of census report, some sort of arrest report stating Everly Carlen has been taken into custody for crimes against the Amity faction but followed up with Everly Coulter being made an official member of Dauntless. It's stapled to a page with all kinds of information: where I live –Eric's apartment – and a member ID number. Followed by my signature next to Eric's on a document stating…something.

There's more.

A printed email from Eric's father asking if he's really married, and one from his mother demanding he dissolve the marriage at once.

My stomach drops.

I put everything back in the drawer immediately, just as neat as before.