I am so mad at myself. You have no idea. I am a terrible person for not updating. My internet decides to stop working during the one week that I can write (I use Google Drive because my laptop doesn't have Microsoft Word). I am so so so so sorry. Excuses excuses, I know. I decided to updated at least once every weekend, depending on what goes on in my life. Anyway this is sorta a filler chapter, but the next one will have more action. I promise. God, I feel awful about this.

Some ideas are mine. Everything else belongs to Veronica Roth.

I should feel something.

Sadness, anger, grief.

Something.

But the only thing I feel is painful emptiness.

Mel was my sister. She was a part of me that was ripped out the second I saw her lifeless body dangle in Joseph's arms. The tether between us was broken. And now the only thing that remains in my body is pain.

She had a reaction to the simulation. Her body thought the fear was actually going on. Nicole told me the simulation was drowning. Mel held her breath until she passed out. She fell out of the chair and hit her head on the concrete ground. She killed herself without getting out of her nightmare.

Just thinking about it makes me want to collapse. Just curl up and forget about everything around me and cry.

But I can't.

They already had the funeral. Jackson made the speech on her behalf. Saying that she was facing her fear even in her death. She was a fighter, and she died trying to survive.

I threw up next the chasm after he spoke.

I couldn't see Joseph or Lily without breaking down. I saw Mel in the both of them. I saw her in the way they spoke and acted and just seeing them in general.

As much as I wanted to mourn and cry, initiation wouldn't let that happen. And neither would Jackson, who gave us the gift of a paintball game on the night two days after Mel's funeral.

But, there was something far more important. And that was my parents.

I walked to their apartment a few hours before we were scheduled to go to the tracks to head off to the paintball area.

I expected Beck to open the door. I even had a small smile on my face for him.

And yet, Father Eaton opened it. Looking like absolute shit.

He hasn't shaved in a few days, evident by the immense stubble forming on his chin. His normally bright eyes have turned to a darker color, black at a certain angle. And his hair was longer than usual, making him look more Dauntless than when it was short.

He looked surprised when he saw me. Almost speechless.

He looked in pain as well. The same way I have been feeling.

Maybe I didn't understand him sometimes. Maybe I try too hard to be distant from not just him, but my mother as well. I think that they are trying to push me away when in reality, I'm leaving them behind.

And seeing my dad was like looking in a mirror that only reflected what was going on in the inside. We both felt the same, I could see it in his eyes.

"Hi," I choked out in barely a whisper.

He said nothing.

He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me in. I buried my head in his chest. I haven't hugged him in forever, yet it felt so natural. These were the things I miss from my life. Something as simple as a hug could make me break down. And as much as I didn't want to, as much as I felt that more tears were useless and unimportant, I didn't fight it.

I let go.

I cried. More than I have in a while.

More than I did when I saw Mel. More than I did when I saw Joseph, Lily, and Xander at the funeral.

For the first time, I felt like they were worth it.

We stood for what seemed like forever. I finally broke away when my sobs were replaced with a few sniffs here and there. I looked up and he smiled a little down at me.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"You're my daughter. I'll always be here for you," He said back. Shutting the door, he told me to come in. I took a seat on the couch.

"Where's Mom? And Beck?" I asked, pulling my knees to my chest and leaning my head back against the cushion. I heard my neck crack and it sent a tingle down my back.

"She's with Christina and Shauna," He poured some water in two glasses. "They're at Marlene's place. I heard she's a wreck. Not even Uriah has been able to talk to her. As far as your brother," He handed me a glass and smiled. "I never know where he is anymore,"

"Reminds me of myself," I muttered, taking a sip of water. It felt like heaven even though it was only a drop of water. I heard my dad laugh as he sat down next to me.

"You were a different story. You would go places no one else would go. Ridiculous places. I still remember you standing on the tracks and playing the game of who could stay on the longest while the train came towards you,"

He shook his head at the memory. "Reckless, that's what you were. And you still are,"

Because you not afraid of dying.

"Can I ask you a question?" I blurted out, turning so I was facing my dad. I noticed how more color returned to his face since I first saw him. Maybe it was my presence that made him happier. Considering the last time I saw him, I told him off.

"Go ahead,"

I swallowed, not sure whether I should tell him. The only person who knows is Nash, and I've known him for a few weeks. I've known my parents for 16 years and I'm hesitating to tell them. If that's wrong, I guess I'll have to live with it.

"What's a Divergent?"

His face went blank. Almost the same face he had after he slapped me. It was like I struck a nerve that made him unresponsive. Frozen.

"Don't ever say that word again," He spoke after a few moments. His expression returned to the same hard one he always had. The one he used to intimidate all the initiates. I don't know if he's trying to intimidate me, or stress the importance of his last words.

I nodded and looked away from him.

"Who told you about it?"

"No one did," I picked at the side of my nail. "I just heard it,"

"Are you?"

I looked back up to him, making sure to keep my expression plain.

I knew before he asked any questions that I would lie. It seems cruel, I know. But now, it was just too early to be able to explain everything, let alone understand it. I don't even know what being Divergent means. How do I know that's what I am?

"If I were Divergent, why would I be here asking you?" I heard the nastiness in my voice. I took my response back by looking down at my feet.

"Because you don't understand," My dad said back, just above a whisper.

"I'm not Divergent," I persisted.

"What were your test results?" He pressed on. Even though he was trying to play the part of overly protective father, I couldn't but begin to feel bothered by his constant questions.

"I didn't come here for an interrogation," I snapped back. Silence should have sat after that, but he didn't stop. Now I know where I get it from.

"I'm just trying to help," He put his hands on his knees and began to rake his hands through his hair. "What did you get from your Aptitude Test?"

I took a large intake of breath and ran my nails down the inside of my wrist. "Dauntless,"

"Don't lie to me,"

"Why would I?" The irony in that sentence almost made me burst into flames. I was choking on my own words, trying to make them sound real, when they were just fabrications.

I shouldn't have gotten Dauntless on my test. Sure, I acted like one. But, that wasn't what I wanted to do. I wanted to grab the knife. I wanted to stop the dog without killing it. You don't always have to kill something to stop it.

"How was stage 2?"

Now is where the real deception starts.

"Fine," I sat cross-legged and took another drink of water. When there was no answer, I looked up at my dad's face as he stared at me. Expecting me to elaborate.

"I was trapped in a room and burnt alive," I murmured back. Now that I think about it, that might not even be a probable fear. Who knows if that's something people are even scared of.

My dad looked surprised, like he didn't expect me to say that. Unless he wanted me to say spiders, he shouldn't be all that shocked.

No one told me what was in their fear simulation. Maybe because I haven't talked to anyone in 48 hours.

"You don't have to lie to me, Theo,"

His voice was quiet, a bit louder than a whisper. It startled me how fast he could change how loud he spoke.

"Didn't we already establish that I wasn't lying. I'm just embarrassed from it, ok? It was terrifying,"

I forced my body to hover as if I was reminiscing about the memory of feeling the flames char my skin and the smell of my burning flesh.

Even through the corner of my sight, I saw him roll his eyes at me. Like he could see right through my bullshit. Christina was a Candor. She probably taught him a few sleazy ways to tell of a person is lying.

"I have to go. We have the paintball game tonight," I got up, wiping my hands along my pants, trying to remove how slimy they were.

I heard the couch creak as he followed me, sighing. A sharp pain in my chest cause me to ache. It wasn't from anything other than the fact that I was lying to my father.

I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him again. It just eased some of my guilt, holding onto him.

"Thank you," I found myself saying again, even though it came out as a muffled whisper.

"Be careful," he responded. There was something behind his words that I couldn't quite decipher. I chose to ignore it.

"I'm sorry," I blurted out, not sure how to put. I was sorry for a number of things. One being my absence from my family. After what happened with Mel, I can't take anything for granted. There is so much I could lose, and I act like I don't care. When in reality, I do.

Another being the fact that I flat-out lied to him.

"We still love you. No matter what," He whispered, smoothing out my hair. "Don't ever forget that,"

I nodded, not sure if he noticed it against his chest.

I was never so sure that I loved my dad than in that moment. I didn't feel any sort of detest or annoyance towards him. I felt like I was still the little girl who cried on his shoulder. The girl he raised right in a place where the only thing you saw more than a fight was a gun. Hell, he did a fine job raising Beck and me.

I felt like I was his daughter.

And I didn't have to lie about that.