TRIS POV

My trial is going to be much different from last time.

Outright, I can tell by the room I am taken to. It is a private one, not even remotely similar to the top floor where there is almost a crowded theater surrounding a stage where people are interrogated. This one looks sleek, not cramped, though the room is still small. The wide window makes me feel somewhat free among the falling snowflakes. There is only a table and two chairs in here, and I am handcuffed to one of them.

I sip from the cup of water I was given and tap my foot impatiently. The interrogation will take some time, and I am eagerly awaiting breakfast in the meantime. It isn't that it wasn't offered; I refused because the truth serum tends to not sit well in my stomach, from what I remember. Plus, I would rather just get this over with.

Jack Kang seems to feel otherwise, based on how long he has kept me waiting.

The door clicks open, and Kang is escorted into the room by two guards, who maintain their positions at the door. Two other men—witnesses, maybe? Judges?—stand next to the Candor leader as he takes a seat in front of me.

"Tris Prior," he greets, though it isn't very welcoming with the way his eyes are sagging from exhaustion. "We meet again."

I press my lips into a cordial smile. "Mr. Kang," I reply.

It is difficult to hide my distaste. Last year, he acted without comprehension whatsoever. Playing down the Dauntless-Erudite attack on Candor, abiding by Jeanine's terms, even handing over his faction to be used as mindless drones completely. Whereas I used to view him as an important person, I have no respect for him anymore.

Now, I have to put my faith in him to make the right choice.

"Let's get down to business, shall we?" He motions to one of the men; I recognize him as Niles, who interrogated me before. He steps forward to wipe my neck with a cold alcohol wipe. I gulp uncomfortably and try to distract myself.

"Don't take this the wrong way when I say this because I appreciate it," I say, "but why is my interrogation private?"

Kang taps on the device he has laid on the table. Pulling up my file, I presume. "Ahh. Well, considering you have been arrested for hijacking sensitive information from two factions, it wouldn't be wise to carry this out in front of others."

Understandable.

I bite my tongue when the needle slides into my neck, prompting a sharp ache. Rubbing the spot, I blink at Kang as everything in me becomes heavy with truth serum.

"You know the drill," he begins. "We must ask some basic questions to ensure that the serum is working."

I nod.

"What is your name?"

"Beatrice Prior."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen." Sure doesn't feel like it.

"What faction do you belong to?"

These may be simple questions, but I don't like the way the answers keep bursting from my mouth. "Dauntless," I say.

Kang says, "All right, Tris. I am going to describe the circumstances that are the reason you were arrested, and we can fill in the gaps from there." He scrolls on his screen. "You were detained after breaking into Erudite—specifically the surveillance room—and disabling two workers. Soon after you were discovered, a man entered the front doors and shot the two guards that were leading you away. After your escape, it was found that a window to an office had been broken, and it was suspected that you aided in extracting information from Jeanine Matthews's personal computer."

I awkwardly dart my eyes around the room. "Sounds about right," I agree.

"Then, we came to the conclusion that this incident was connected to us when we went through our own cameras for footage of the break-in over a week prior," he continues. "A woman matching your description was one of the culprits, and considering your track record, it isn't hard to believe that you are guilty."

There is no point in hiding it. If I am going to strike a deal with him, then he must know that I currently have Candor's information.

"You're right," I state. "I broke in and stole information from both factions."

All three of the men seem to be bewildered that I would outright confess to my crimes, without even being prompted.

Kang taps his fingers against the table, intrigued. "Why?"

I lean back in the chair, which presses into the sore spots on my body; it wasn't pleasant to sleep in between two solid walls. "I had some suspicions that I wanted answers to, and nobody else was willing to find out the facts for themselves," I say simply, careful not to say we. They already must be skeptical of Tobias, since he matches the profile of the man who assisted me, but they can't arrest him on that basis. Not unless I slip up and confirm it.

"Suspicions...about what?"

I purse my lips, considering how I want to go about this.

"Four has the evidence. He's waiting outside," I say.

"What do you—"

I interrupt the leader of Candor. "I'm going to tell you what I found out," I declare honestly. "If it interests you enough, which it will, then I am going to hold you to it that you will make a deal with me, in exchange for my cooperation."

He narrows his eyes. "Why should I trust you?" he asks pointedly. "Why should I take part in any deals made by a fugitive teenage girl?"

I smile, and lean forward. Jack Kang may have underestimated me during the war, but he will not get away with it now. In fact, I suspect that the reason he is displeased with me lies in the reality that I was correct about Jeanine's ill will, and he didn't heed my warning.

"If you really are Candor, if you really believe in defending the truth...then you will accept my proposal."

"No."

"What?"

"Absolutely not."

I grit my teeth. "Tobias—"

"What you just did is put a target on your forehead!" he exclaims.

"In exchange for my freedom," I clarify.

He scoffs angrily. "Your freedom isn't worth shit if you're dead!"

I cross my arms and glare at him heatedly, stubbornly. He has a point, but considering I was spending the rest of my life in prison an hour ago, I was inclined to be more than satisfied with the deal I made with Jack Kang.

"All I have to do is say my lines," I tell him quietly. "They'll release the video, and we can leave this place for good."

That was the deal: reveal the truth of what we have learned about the suicide serum to the city, and I would be free to go.

Tobias's piercing eyes shift downward to the tiles, his hands balling into tight fists. "I don't think you understand the magnitude of the consequences. The factionless will come after you for smearing them, with the support of Erudite."

"How is this any different from you wanting to release the information?!" I retort. "They would have come after us anyway!"

"That was going to be on our own terms, without your face on every screen—"

"It was going to have the same consequences; the city would have broken out into war regardless—"

He cuts me off. "I don't care about the city, Tris!" he shouts hotly. "I care about you!"

Red creeps up into my face. I don't know whether to feel flattered or frustrated with him, but right now I am leaning towards the latter. This was going to happen sooner or later, and he is being unrealistic if he thinks that this is unfavorable for us given the circumstances.

A knock sounds at the door of the interrogation room, and a guard pokes his head in. "Everything okay in here?" He must have been summoned by our forceful tones.

"We're fine," Tobias growls. The door is shut immediately. "I don't want you to do this."

Stubbornly, I march over to him, tilting my head back to look up at him. I would stand on my toes to try to match his height, but I refuse to show any kind of weakness in front of him right now.

"I don't need your approval," I say with arrogance. "This was my life on the line, and I made my decision."

Knocking my shoulder into his firmer one, I stride past him. I let the door swing shut behind me on my way out.

Why can we never seem to get along in Candor? This is where a few of our most trying moments have occurred, and when we need each other most, our wants and beliefs split out of synchronization.

Why does the truth threaten to tear us apart?

If I focus on the lens closely, I can see my own reflection in it. It is odd to think that behind that piece of glass, there is an audience of tens of thousands of people.

The Candor woman behind the camera starts counting down. I take a deep breath, and when she hits zero, I begin.

"My name is Tris Prior," I say. "If you have been paying attention to the news recently, you would know that I was arrested on charges of breaking into both Candor and Erudite several months back. What you don't know is why I committed the crime, and what exactly I was after. In exchange for my freedom, I am going to tell you the truth.

"I was suspicious about why all of the suicides around the city were happening so suddenly and in such large numbers, as I am sure many of you were and still are. Odd circumstances surrounded each of their deaths, and I didn't believe the news articles because they left out key information. I knew that the only way I was going to get to the bottom of this is if I grasped sealed information and investigated on my own.

"With the help of an accomplice, I was able to obtain the death certificates of the first several victims from Candor. In the files, I discovered that each of them had an injection site in their necks around the times of death."

I pause, assuming that this is the time where pictures of the documents are being inserted for people to see for themselves.

"From that, I gathered that serums were at fault for these deaths. So I went to the most logical place in search for answers: Erudite.

"In the files of Erudite, I discovered a terrible truth that I think is important for every citizen of this city to know. The factionless have been supplied this serum—that induces suicidal thoughts and actions—by Erudite for months. The Erudite were able to get away with this despite their overseen production of serums because of the Abnegation themselves, who signed off on it in the first place.

"The governments have been conspiring with each other to kill off innocent people, taking revenge for their war reparations and making the city fragile. Not only have they used it on me to stop my researching, but they are continuing to use it, now as a war weapon. The attack on Dauntless by the factionless was accompanied by a strange gas that nobody knew the reason of; I am telling you now that it was this serum in aerosol form."

This is an understated version of the whole story, but I don't have much time. So I end with something that will hopefully save my own skin. Tobias was somewhat right—who knows how the factionless will retaliate.

"I am not a leader, nor any kind of politician. I am not making this video to tell anybody what to do. I am simply stating the facts about the corruption and the horrific deaths that haunt us all at night. Not all is as it seems in our city."

Tobias's tall frame leans against the wall as he waits for me to leave the room. When he sees me approaching, he straightens.

After rehashing the month of never-ending suicides and missions and revelations, I don't care about our trivial, seconds-long argument anymore. More than anything, I want him to take me home so we can pretend that this day didn't happen.

"I got your gun back," he tells me, deadpan.

I curl my fingers around the metal that he offers and tuck it away. "Thanks," I reply.

He stares at me, unreadable. It is impossible to tell what is going through his mind right now, but with such a heavy burden off my chest, I want him to feel relieved for a moment too.

Standing on my toes, I wrap my arms around his neck. "Hey," I whisper closely. "I'm free."

Some sort of sigh leaves him. I watch his eyes dart around the hallway before he takes my wrist and starts leading me somewhere else.

"Come on," he says.

Disappointed by his reaction, I ask, "Where are we going?"

We walk over to the elevator bank, where he presses the down button. At this point I have given up on trying to figure him out, so I follow him inside an elevator without question.

Once it starts shifting downward, he pushes a button that makes the elevator freeze in midair.

"What are you..."

Tobias turns around and backs me up against the wall with a gentle force. When his lips land on mine, I suddenly have no complaints or stresses in the world.

I feel the tension leave his shoulders before he pins my hands against the wall. The past twenty-four hours become void in my mind when the length of his body presses flat against mine. His kisses shift downward, tracing my jaw and the length of my neck until he gets to my jacket collar. I shiver when he ditches the jacket from my shoulders, revealing only my tank top.

"I want you," he breathes against the ravens inked into my collarbone.

The blunt words are something that I haven't heard him say before. And I don't know where this rather abrupt change in mood came from, when he was just cross with me about an hour ago. But if the way I am naturally drawn into him is any indication, I understand his motives.

"Yeah," I agree, helping him remove his own jacket with haste.

It is all the incentive he needs. With greedy eyes, I watch his biceps pull taut as they pick me up and trap me against the glossy wall.

My head is dizzy with want while he pays more attention to my neck. I hum and close my eyes to enjoy the sensation.

"Tris, look at me," he demands.

I do. His dark eyes are lidded and hungry, but there is a softness there that he only reveals for me.

"I love you," he says.

I press my hand to his cheek. Those simple words stifle my breath. In a different time and place, they were something I wasn't ready to admit; when I did, I knew that I would lose him too, since I lose everyone I love. Even the last time we were here, I was unprepared to solidify my devotion. That remained an unidentified issue between us, that he said it and I didn't.

But a year has proven that my irrational phobias about telling that truth are just that.

We don't say the words often because we already know, and because they are special. I think that causes me to be physically stunned each time.

I kiss him to flame the desire. And it feels like every other time, sensual and powerful, even in our worst moments.

"I love you too," I reply firmly.

We don't say much of anything coherent after that. We don't even bother undressing all the way. All I am aware of is my head tilting back against the wall in gasps, and my fingers digging into the skin below his neck where the Dauntless flame is marked, reminding me of a certainty:

There is still a fire that burns bright within us.

We seem to blend in with the Candor. Our black settles in with the black and white almost without trouble. If it weren't for the way Tobias towers proudly above most of the faction, we would be unnoticeable.

It would certainly help if our faces weren't so familiar too. Regardless, we receive stares wherever we go. Me especially, since I was seen on a city-wide video just today.

"I was going to tell you," Tobias says as we walk, "you know, before you jumped me..."

I raise my eyebrows. "Right, that was my idea. Especially the elevator," I tease back. Still dazed from what transpired between us a half hour ago, it seems to me like that all happened in another world.

He rolls his eyes, a satisfied grin still plastered on his face. It is a wonder his hair isn't messy anymore. "Anyway," he pushes on. "We can't go back to Dauntless yet. It was a blizzard out there earlier, and I'm pretty sure the trains aren't running."

My shoulders deflate along with my mood. "Really?"

"We'll find somewhere to stay here."

He takes my hand reassuringly. It isn't that I despise this place, but I have already had enough of spending time in the hallways with thousands of less-considerate Christinas. And it doesn't make me feel too secure knowing that the factionless could retaliate, and they know exactly where I am.

"Besides," Tobias adds. "I'm starving."

My stomach growls when the smell of warm food wafts out of the so-called Gathering Place. "Me too," I admit.

"Worked up quite an appetite, didn't you?"

I blush and shove his shoulder playfully. "Shut up."

He pushes aside the flaps of plastic that make up the door of the Candor cafeteria. It is barely dinner time, but it is already filled with lawyers and politicians bickering over the meals; I catch conversations about the video, mostly. Besides a few double-takes, nobody seems to notice us as Tobias leads me through the middle to get to the food line at the front.

On the way, we pass the Candor symbol—the scales—on the floor. I smirk at the sight, suddenly amused when I remember that he beat his father with a belt here last year, for everyone to see. At the time I was awestricken and embarrassed and somewhat horrified with his behavior, but now I look back at it with a laugh.

"What's so funny?" Tobias asks once we stand in line.

I shake my head. "Just recalling the time when you decked Marcus in front of the whole cafeteria," I explain. It may have been for political reasons, but he did deserve it.

He is about to respond when three loud tones sound over the intercom. The Candor immediately fall quiet for the announcement.

"Tris Prior, please report to Jack Kang's office," a voice says. "Tris Prior, please report to Jack Kang's office. It is urgent."

The conversations gradually pick up again. Tobias frowns distrustfully at me.

I shrug at him. "We have to go," I insist. "It could be important."

Begrudgingly, he agrees. We head upstairs then, our meal forgotten as we stress over what news could be awaiting us.

It turns out, we had reason to worry.

"Evelyn Johnson wants me to hand you over," Jack Kang tells us when we step inside his office. "If not, she threatened to attack Candor. The factionless are collecting outside as we speak."

I swallow. How am I supposed to respond to that? I eye his guards skeptically, wondering if they are about to put me in chains again. I wouldn't blame Kang for turning me into her for the good of his faction.

Next to me, Tobias is silent, clenching and relaxing his jaw periodically at the mention of his mother.

I clear my throat awkwardly. "And?" I prompt.

Kang sighs and covers his face. "I refused; in Candor we do not give up prisoners to mobs. While you may not be a prisoner anymore, I do consider you under our protection because you should not have to suffer the repercussions for doing this city such a service."

Biting my lip, I still stand vigilantly. "I appreciate that," I say quietly. "You don't have to—"

"No," Tobias interrupts me abruptly. "He does. If he were to hand you over, the factionless would kill you for revealing what they have done."

He has a point.

"So what am I supposed to do?" I ask.

"I would appreciate it if you could both find a way out of my faction," Kang says bluntly. "That way, my people have the least chance of getting hurt."

I nod. "Of course."

As we are on the way out of the office, a guard bursts in without permission. "Sir, the factionless crowd has expanded out front. They are threatening to break the doors down if they don't get what they want," he rushes out.

Tobias takes one panicked glance at me before he clamps a hand around my wrist. "We have to get out of here," he tells me. "Now."

We head down a flight of stairs to a lower level, where people are scattered along the windows lining the front of the building. I rush over, pulling against his strong grip so I can see what they are staring at.

"We need to figure out how to leave without..." I trail off, shocked at what I see below me.

Even with the thick snow falling, the crowd below us is staggering. The factionless are a mass of anger that is impossible to be missed. From up here it is difficult to tell if they are armed, but when someone fires a shot up at the sky, I realize that was a stupid inquiry.

Then, the people start disappearing into the doors of Candor below.

"Tris," Tobias urges.

I nod and rush after him. We take an elevator that lets us off on the fourth floor, where we figure we can take the back staircase that we used to break in the rest of the way down.

The Candor seem to have vacated the area for the most part, probably bracing for impact in the safety of their apartments. But some are still hurrying toward the stairs or occupied elevators, or giving up those options completely and searching for some other nonexistent escape in a frenzy.

"It should be over there, right?" I ask, pointing.

Tobias nods. "Yes."

He begins leading me toward the back staircase, gun in hand. Out of nowhere, he throws his arm out to stop me from stepping forward.

"Wait, stop," he whispers. "There's someone blocking the staircase."

I pull out my own gun, just in case. "Well now what?"

He shakes his head before peeking around the corner. There is some sort of commotion that I can hear, and footsteps that go from nearly silent to noiseless.

"He's gone," Tobias tells me.

We turn the corner and hurry to the end of the hall, where we burst through the door and start heading down the stairs. When we hit the second landing, voices can be heard on the bottom floor. He pushes the door to the second floor open and drags me in behind him.

"We'll have to find another way down," he says breathily. "Or we'll have to wait."

I try to catch my breath, hoping that oxygen will help me figure out an escape. Tobias moves ahead past a few frazzled Candor women, and I glance behind us just in case.

"This floor is clear!" someone shouts. I stumble back before I turn to run, just as I hear a pained groan.

A gun, held by someone behind the corner up ahead, has been struck across Tobias's head. He doesn't have time to recover before the man locks him in a chokehold and kicks his gun from his hand. I raise my own gun in that split second, as the man holds his to Tobias's temple.

The world freezes, but I do not. My hands shake around my pistol as I keep it aimed at the man aside Tobias's shoulder. He is shorter, so he must stand adjacent to him rather than straight behind him, which will make his head more tricky to hit.

It is when I see the peculiar bruising around his neck that I recognize him.

The factionless man in Amity. The one I thought I choked to death.

He cackles in recognition as I adjust my sweaty grip on the gun. Tobias grunts in frustration and clutches his arm, but he isn't at liberty to make any sudden movements.

"You should put that down if you want him to live," the man threatens. "But then again, maybe I'll just blow his brains out anyway."

Tobias and I lock eyes. At that moment, I realize that there are only two options. The first one gets ruled out easily. If I were to threaten to shoot myself, it wouldn't protect him; the factionless want me dead, whether it is in their custody or not.

So, that leaves one option, and it involves facing one of my greatest fears in reality. I will have to take this man's life all over again.

"Your call..." He clicks his tongue.

It is a game that depends on who flinches first. Except the game ends with Tobias dead in most of the possibilities.

I am quickly running out of time.

"Tris," Tobias says. His forehead shines with sweat, and I can see that he can't bring himself to fully trust me. I don't blame him. In the circumstance where I summon the nerve to murder this man, my aim will not be adequate. With my trembling fingers, I could easily hit Tobias instead.

My heart pounds heavily in my ears when I make my decision, muffling all other noises. All I can see are his dark eyes that surround me in an ocean of intensity. It reminds me of when he threw knives at my head.

Except this time, his life is in my hands. At the expense of another.

I can't, I can't, I can't.

The seconds that drag along feel like minutes. My breaths and my heartbeat decelerate into nothing. As I watch the light—the hope—drain from his eyes, it gives me the courage to do what I must.

I won't let anyone take him from me.

The shot is a distant blast that sounds like a mere rumble. Then my ears pop, and it isn't blurry anymore, and I am left to see what I have done.

The man is dead. Tobias stands, unscathed except for the gash on his forehead. There is so much blood on him, though thankfully it is not his.

Someone is breathing in dramatic gasps, and I soon realize that it is me. When I blink, the body in front of me is Will's. When I blink again, he is gone.

"Tris..." Tobias murmurs.

I can read the empathy and the indebtedness in his expression. From personal experience, he knows more than anyone the atrocity of war, of killing someone. He understands that it took every last ounce of willpower to pull that trigger. He is cognizant of the fact that I had to do what I most dread, and that I will have permanent effects.

I could only do it because I love him more than I fear murder.

And although I may have saved his life, I can't feel gratitude that he was spared. I am numb.

As Tobias bends down to retrieve his gun, my own slips from my fingers, clattering loudly against the tiles. I stumble back before he tries to approach and soothe me, but then his attention is focused elsewhere. Down the hallway to my left.

"No!"

Two gunshots ring out, remarkably almost in sync.

A bullet impacts me. The pain is blinding.

I fall.