A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews, the follows and the favourites. It means a lot. I'm so glad you guys are liking this. Once again a huge thanks goes to Sarah for being my beta. This one is a shorter chapter and I know some of you are going to be disappointed that there's no Eric in this one, but I'll make it up to you in the next one. Enjoy!
Chapter Five
My family makes it a point of having dinner together once every month. It's been more difficult since I started working for Jeanine and our schedules often clash but we try. It's more than I can say for other families. Erudite doesn't see much gain in emotions, not when there's more to learn.
"Did you hear? They're revamping that old building next to headquarters. Thomas heard one of the older kids talking about it today. Apparently his father is one of the designers," Brighton says. Despite my mother's many warnings, my brother is leaning forward with his elbows on the table. It's not too difficult a feat for him to accomplish. At 14, he is all limbs.
"That's true," my mother answers in her soft voice. "They were in the archives last week, looking up the old blueprints for the building." My mother is a librarian in the archives. It suits her meticulousness well. She gives my brother a pointed look and Brighton gives a sheepish grin before pulling his elbows off the table.
"Do you know what for?" Brighton has asked questions all his life. If there was anyone made for Erudite, it's him. I'm surprised by the sharp relief I feel at that thought. He won't be in danger, not like I am.
"A new testing facility," my father answers from his place at the head of the table. He would know. He builds and designs new technology for Erudite. He'll probably help build the machines for testing Divergents. Something catches in my throat. I never considered that my family would be involved in this through their work. Me? Yes, but not them. I can't picture my small father causing any harm to anyone, not with his easy smile and hazel eyes. I share his eye colour but my eyes don't shine like his do. "We're working on the new equipment now."
Brighton's eyes widen at the news. They're the same as my mother's. "What type of equipment?"
"The same as usual," my father says with a shrug. "Nothing too exciting." That's a lie, they just don't know it. The new testing facility will be used for Divergents.
"What about you, Amelia? You have to know what it's for, working for Jeanine," Brighton asks. It draws my parent's gazes to me. I take a sip of the orange soda in front of me, biding my time. I can't tell them the truth.
"It's just an expansion," I say quietly. "We're hoping for an influx of initiates soon. We'll need room for everyone to do their research." Brighton goes back to his speculations when I don't offer more. There's an ache in my chest as I watch them interact. This used to be easy. I've kept secrets from my family before, but this isn't a secret about which boy I like or how I read up on something I wasn't supposed to. This is worse.
"He had the nerve to argue! With the teacher!" Brighton's in the middle of telling a story about a Candor arguing with one of his teachers as it hits me. I can't tell them stories like this. I can't share my day. I can't tell them about how I was pushed, nearly falling into the bottomless pit in the Dauntless compound. I can't tell them how scared I am that one day I'll walk into work and never see them again.
I stare at the food on my plate. I'm beginning to wonder if I even belong here, with my family. How can I when they don't know me anymore? I don't think I even know who I am anymore.
I can't eat, but when I catch my mother watching me out of the corner of her eye, I swallow some more bites. She'll persist if she thinks something is wrong. I can't deal with that too.
"Well I, for one, am glad to hear that the factionless are finally settling down," my mother says. I've missed part of the conversation. "The Dauntless has been quite persistent lately and it shows."
"Indeed," my father agrees, pushing his glasses up his nose. "It's good to know that things are getting back to normal. We can't have them causing too much trouble. There's too much to do." I can't stop the small smile that appears. It was a typical thing for my father to say. He preferred to always be busy, which somehow balanced well with my mother's need for organization.
"Right," Brighton says quickly. He's always admired our father. He used to dress up as him and walk around wearing our father's spare glasses, trying to fix things. Brighton's hand twitches towards his face, as if to fix glasses himself before he remembers he hasn't earned them yet. Only initiates who pass earn their glasses. "It's good to see that they're doing something useful in the city."
"They protect us," my mother's voice has a stern tone. "We have a valuable relationship with the Dauntless, one that serves us both well."
"I know," Brighton sighs, looking over at me and rolling his eyes. I stifle my laugh. I have different opinions of the Dauntless but it's nice to have Brighton try to joke with me about our parents. We haven't spent much time together since my initiation. It's another crack, widening the gap between my family and myself.
"Forget the Dauntless," Brighton suddenly says. He's looking at me eagerly and I know what's coming. "What's work like?" Brighton has long been fascinated with Jeanine for her intelligence. He wants to be just like her. The thought makes me sick.
"Tiring," I say. It's the most truthful thing I've said all night.
"Working hard?" My mother asks.
"The Aptitude tests are coming up. There's a lot of preparation." Luckily, that's another truth. I give them a small smile. "Nothing I can't handle." They've seen me look frazzled around previous Aptitude tests, so I'm not surprised when they don't press further.
"Of course," my mother says. "We've never had any doubts about your capability."
My brother cuts off anything else she might say. "Is there anything you can tell us? What's she working on? Anything exciting?" His elbows are on the table again.
"Some," I say. He hangs off my every word when I talk about work. Despite the fact that he says he likes to brag about me, I can't help but doubt it. I think he likes hearing about Jeanine. This is a perfect opportunity though. I can bring back our camaraderie. I have to try. I give him a small smile, almost teasing. "I can't give you everything. Do your research." It works. He perks up in his chair, grinning at me with that same smile our father has.
"I am!" he argues. "I'm conducting a survey, obviously. Asking questions is a key part of forming a hypothesis."
"True, but when faced with an obstacle, you have to find another way," I reply. I take another sip of the soda in front of me. Our parents are watching with a smile.
"Maybe, Brighton," my father says, "you're not asking the right questions." There's that familiar twinkle in his eye and he winks at me. I sit back and wait.
"Is it about the factionless?" Brighton asks. "Is she developing a new serum? Can you tell me what she's working on right now? Do you transcribe all of her notes? Can I meet her?" He barely breathes in between his questions. My mother stands up suddenly.
"Brighton, it's time for personal study," she says.
"What?" Brighton looks stunned. The look is comical enough that I have to stop myself from laughing. "But Amelia was just about to answer!"
"Sorry Brighton," I smile. "Looks like you'll have to find another method of research." He scowls at me.
"That's cheating!" The good mood that built up during my teasing evaporates. I want to tell him that life isn't easy or fair. Things like this will prepare him for that. I stop myself though. I don't want to ruin him like this. It's easier to be happy in ignorance. I know that from experience. Instead, I watch silently as Brighton glowers at me before he retreats to his room.
It's quiet. My father is in the other room, tinkering with some machine at his desk. I stand at the sink with my mother, helping her with the dishes before I go home. She's taller than me so she dries them and puts them away while I wash. We look similar, sharing the same dark hair and build. If it wasn't for the height difference, we'd be identical from behind. The mundane actions of washing is surprisingly relaxing. I used to hate it.
"Are you sure you're alright?" My mother's voice is quiet, low enough that only I can hear her. I look at her in surprise. She dries a dish and puts it away but she doesn't look at me. I stare down at my hands, submerged in soapy water. I used to think that my mother knew everything. She worked in the archives, she had to. I know better now. The less she knows about my work or Divergence, the safer she is. The safer they all are.
"Yes," I say softly. "I'm just tired." My throat closes up and my eyes feel like they're welling up with tears. I shut them, take a deep breath and try to relax.
"Of course," she agrees. It sounds like she's hesitating but she continues. "We know that you can handle it. Our leader chose you, Amelia, out of everyone else." She places a hand on my arm and smiles. It should be comforting but it just feels like added weight. "I know you'll make us proud." I force a smile and nod. I'm going to be sick.
[tbc]
