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My dreams are lovely.

They are a bubble of warmth and softness, made of sunlight dripping onto my skin while clouds streak across the sky. A warm glass of cider between my palms and the smell of flowers in the breeze. The sound of laughter in the air, followed by a call for dinner and the feeling of returning home.

When I take the first step up the porch stairs, a sharp nudge pushes my arm.

"Wake up."

Eric's voice is too far away to hear properly. He says my name, but I keep my eyes closed. The pull of home is too strong to resist, so I don't bother trying. An idyllic scene plays out before me, fizzling when his voice grows harsher.

"Everly, you have to get up. It's almost eight in the morning." He tries again, refusing to give up. "You slept through the night."

I would shake my head, but it's too much effort. I hear my youngest brother telling me to be careful because the stairs are wobbly, and the pie on the railing might fall.

"Everly… come on. Stop playing around. If you don't get up…." His threat is halfhearted at best. "You need to fix this." He hisses at someone else. "If she's sick, give her something."

"I don't think she's sick."

An even harsher voice joins his. My brother vanishes from my sleep, and Eric's room comes into view. I open one eye when Arlene touches my forehead and the other when she prods at the side of my throat.

"If she is sick, then I can't just fix it. You have to let it run its course. But it looks to me like seeing the person who sold her at an auction has exhausted her." Arlene pulls her hand away with a sigh. "Eric, did you hear me?"

"I heard you," he snaps. "This isn't my fault."

I shut my eyes again, desperately hoping for Amity to return.

"I didn't say it was. I'd let her sleep. When she's ready to get up, she will. I'd also advise you not to let her see the lady again. Harrison said she'll come back. I wouldn't let her past the gates." Arlene's voice quiets. "Does it not worry you that they came looking for her?"

Eric makes an unpleasant noise in response.

"She showed up because the tracker wasn't sending a signal anymore. She claims it was for my benefit, but I know she thinks I did something to it." Eric pauses, and his next words are extra sharp. "Even if I did, it's none of Shannon's business."

"Right. I told you that would happen. But does Everly know what you're doing?" Arlene asks. "Are you going to tell her?"

"No."

They must leave the room because I don't hear anything else. I fall back asleep before I can wonder what she's talking about, and this time, my sleep is dreamless.

By lunch, I feel better.

I wake to the sound of someone knocking on the door. Whoever it is tries their best for a minute but eventually gives up and leaves.

When the apartment is silent again, I rub my eyes and try to ignore the lingering dread of seeing Shannon. I loathe the way knowing she's been inside Dauntless. I worry that she can find her way back in or somehow make it to Eric's apartment.

When that thought gives me a new sense of panic, I focus on the tangible things that I can touch to prove I'm fine: Eric's pillows, the sheets that smell like his shampoo, and the heavy comforter pulled over me. The dread wanes slowly, so I head into Eric's bathroom and straight into the shower. I wash my hair for a long time, then scrub my skin until it's red. I stand under the scalding water until the threat of Shannon's stare is gone, and I feel as normal as I can.

I step out of the shower, wrap myself in a dark towel, and study my reflection in the mirror.

The bruise on my neck is bold, wrapping around my throat the same way Eric's tattoo does. The stitches look fine; they are neat and clean, laid out in an even row. There's little chance Shannon saw them, but if she did, she'd know what they were for. I blink at myself, a mess of dark hair much too long now and skin that holds the color of a sunless existence, but it's fine.

I'm alive.

I'm safe.

I'm here.

Far away from Shannon, from the tents, from the men working the auction, and very far from Landon. And while Eric isn't exactly the most charismatic host, he's yet to do anything that hurt. Other than an impending marriage that he may or may not follow through with, he's left me alone and trusted I won't do anything stupid.

At this point, I feel so unlike myself that I might.

"Are you alright?"

Eric's voice is quiet as it breaks my concentration. I jump, more obviously than I'd like to, and when I turn, he's leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

"You slept forever. I had Arlene come look at you." His lips press flat, and his unimpressed expression is recognizable when he sighs. "I thought maybe you were sick. They told me you'd never get sick."

His tone is petulant, and I wonder if he really thought that was possible.

"I'm not sick. I think…it was seeing Shannon. Being at the tents with everyone, being told what to say and what to do…" I answer in a jumble of thoughts, and I wish I had more time to collect them. I pull the towel tighter, but he makes no move to look anywhere but my face. "Will she come back?"

"Yes."

"Can you stop her?" I ask, leaving the mirror. I head toward him, figuring I'll slink by and get dressed. "Do I have to see her next time?"

"No, you don't. She didn't stay long. She mostly asked about how you were doing and why I wasn't worried that you'd get away. She called later to schedule a time to check on the tracker. I declined, but I think she's worried something has gone wrong, and she's at fault for it." Eric cocks his head at me, and his stare falls to my shoulders. "If anything, I'll handle her."

"Are you going back there?" I stop before him, and his eyes are a dark grey today. "With…Jason?"

"Yes." Eric nods his answer at me, and the bottom of my stomach drops like I'm back on the roof. "He left this morning to meet with someone. Hopefully, he'll come back with information for us. They told him there's no auction right now, but they had some new girls arrive that he could check out."

I nod, wondering how they were finding the girls for their auction so easily.

"If he goes to the real auction, they promised him upwards of forty showings." Eric adds, his tone darkening. "Or more. Depending on how today goes."

"Did you see very many of us?" I ask, not really wanting to know the answer.

For some reason, the thought makes my chest burn. For all I know, Eric saw everyone. Miranda, the girls I sat in the trailer with, and even some of the girls who were there when I first got there. A lot of them were very pretty; none stuck out for any particular reason, but it was apparent they'd chosen girls they thought people would be interested in purchasing.

"I saw twelve." Eric's stare bores into mine. "I could have seen more, but I declined most of them."

"Why?"

My question makes him look over me.

"I didn't want to." He says, shrugging as his mouth twists. "There was no reason."

"I didn't see you in the line." I adjust the towel, and he looks at me like he's only now realized I've just gotten out of the shower. "I saw Marcus waiting. Maybe I did see you. There were a few in black."

"They advise you to dress in a color that doesn't reflect your true faction. No one really listened." He pauses, and his next words are tight. "Get dressed. I'll make you lunch."

"Okay."

I wait until he leaves to head into his bedroom. I try not to think about the other girls and what would have happened if he picked someone else. I don't like the idea, especially when I riffle through the drawers and his clothes are next to mine. I envision myself stuck with Marcus or one of the guys who visibly disliked me and their hands wrapping around my throat when I didn't listen.

I close the drawer harder than I mean to.

The odds were against all of us, but the girls deserved a fair shot just as much as I did. Maybe it's knowing that not everyone would treat them kindly that was making me dizzy, or maybe it was seeing how easily they could get violent without anyone around. I dress quickly, hoping none of them have been hurt, but deep down, I know it's likely the opposite.

By the time I comb out my hair, Eric is back.

He sits down on the edge of his bed, typing on his phone with a sigh.

"Did you know anyone named Marigold? Or hear that name when you were there?" He looks up, his stare emotionless, until I walk toward him. "What?"

"Did they tell you my name?" I stop when I'm in front of him. "Did they tell you who I was?"

"No. They told me your faction, how tall you were, and how likely you would be to fight back or try to run." When Eric's eyes meet mine, they are less chilly but still dismissive. "I was also told you'd been brought in last and were predicted to have the most bids."

"How do they know that?" I glance down at his phone, frowning when Harrison's name flashes. "They can't possibly know how many bids anyone would have before they see them."

"Each girl is marketed with certain qualifications and traits." Eric puts his phone aside and looks directly at me. "They told me you were easy going. Very young, not particularly strong, but helpful. You were likely to marry quickly in Amity, and you'd been raised to take care of a house and family. That you'd be afraid of leaving Amity, but you'd adapt well if I gave it time. Oh, and they assured me no one was looking for you. That your parents had numerous children and their concern over you would die down quickly."

I don't say anything.

"I know the girl from Dauntless. I saw her. She begged me to take her home." Eric continues. His hand reaches for mine, still rough and warm. His fingers encircle my wrist as he pulls me closer, then tighten with his unprompted confession. "I've worked with her father."

"Why didn't you pick her?" My stomach tightens at the thought of him picking Miranda, but it also tightens at the thought of him not picking her. "She would have been free if you brought her back."

"Part of why I was sent there was to find out who is behind all this. Dauntless is trying to put a stop to it, but it's harder than we thought. I picked you…" He stops as his phone rings, and the sound is loud. "Shit."

"Why did you pick me?" My question is lost as he stands. His hand falls away, and he towers over me. When he looks down, his lips press together, and his worry is impossible to miss. "Eric?"

"I'll be back. Stay here. Don't leave the apartment." He orders. He doesn't answer me past rushing by, and his next words are tense. "Don't answer the door, either."

"I won't."

I watch him leave, and the fear comes right back, stronger than ever.

In the spare room, I find a closet full of Eric's past.

I wander in after eating something in his fridge, cleaning the kitchen, and making his bed. The boredom isn't unwelcome, but it leaves me anxious. I don't know where he went or why, and his orders to stay inside made me nervous. I assume the worst; I decide that Shannon has returned and insisted I see her, or maybe the whole thing had unraveled, and Eric will be forced to hand me over to her.

Or maybe he was done with me.

What better way to find the people hosting the auction than to be unsatisfied with the merchandise.

I try not to think of what would happen if I went back. I tell myself I can't go back: I picked Dauntless, and it has to show up somewhere that I live here now. I was technically a member, even if the only record they had was me picking Dauntless. Pacified with this thought, I walked around the apartment. I went into the room Eric planned on putting another bed in, walked past his boots, boxes, and work, and opened the closet doors, expecting to find nothing.

I'm met with an array of darkness, literally and figuratively. His old uniforms hang in a row, each one with a blue stripe on the arm, and the black faded to a washed-out color. The belts are thick and bulky, the pants are meant for holstering numerous weapons, and the boots are different. He has other clothes in here, but they are less impressive. Several black vests, dark t-shirts with frayed edges, and some workout clothes that have seen better days. On the floor, near the corners of the closet, are pages with his name on them, and almost all look like work documents. His signature is the same one I'd seen before: neat, precise, and controlled, and written like he was forced to sign his life away. In the final box are papers revealing his guilty verdict and his sentencing.

The last box is the most telling.

I open it up gingerly, trying to listen for his return.

Inside the box is a picture of him in Candor. Stripped of his uniform, he's dressed in a white t-shirt. His hair is unparted, his ears are bare, and so is his eyebrow. There is a number across the bottom, and his name is typed out in black letters. Unsmiling and grim-faced, his picture is attached to a list of his crimes, and so is the agreement to work with Rachel as part of his rehabilitation. Her signature is less precise, lopsided, and rushed. Also clipped to the paper is a written promise to make sure Eric fulfills the orders signed by Max, Tori, and Harrison.

Beneath the paperwork are letters.

One is from his mother. It's a scathing note full of disappointment and disdain, followed by a hysterical plea to spare his aunt and publicly denounce her conviction. Several similar ones follow, each losing its uniformed cursive as her panic sets in. On the day Jeanine is executed, his mother sends one telling him she'll never speak to him again, and if she sees him, she will pretend he doesn't exist. She also threatens to have him executed, and a subsequent letter redacts this statement by asking he ignore her presence in Jeanine's life in favor of her ignoring his existence.

There are a few from his father, written as though Dr. Coulter has never met his son in his life. He relays being understanding of what Eric has done and asks to speak with him after his time in Candor is over. His second is a plea to come by and for Eric not to decline his visit. By his third letter, he has given up and instead apologizes for not being there when he should have been. He also apologizes for his wife's behavior and in a final letter, announces he has moved, and if Eric is ever in Erudite, he is more than welcome to come by.

A letter from Max is printed on computer paper, thanking Eric for his service and offering him whatever he'd like once he's back. It's stapled to a note from Harrison, scrawled on what appears to be a memo from Max. He, too, thanks Eric for his work but promises his return will be worth it if he can keep his mouth shut for a year. He says he'll see him sooner than later, and not to listen a word out of Four's mouth.

The other letters are from Jason and Rylan.

Both are very apologetic. I gather they are an attempt to keep Eric up to date on what's happening in Dauntless. Like Jason said, Eric served time in Candor for the crimes of Dauntless, while his friends did not. While Rylan details Four's latest misstep in the training room, Jason reassures him everyone is finding fault in Candor's verdict. He laments not taking the fall with Eric, but a second attempt to sway Jack King did little to nothing, and the case is considered closed.

The final letter is from someone named Ashley.

In the politest way possible, she likens him to a petty criminal. She points out that his reputation was one of the very things she admired about him, and his fall from grace is unappealing. She says that his violence toward everyone, children, adults, the factionless, and even those who asked for his help, is something she admired. She tells him not to bother contacting her when he is released, that her position in Erudite is secure, and that she will not risk him ruining her chances with the new Leader. I don't know who she is, but her letter is crumpled like it should have gone in the trash, and someone included it on accident.

Beneath the letters is a gun.

I pick it up slowly, surprised to find how heavy it is. I have no idea if it's loaded or not, so I set it beside a knife, papers with initiate ranking, and a thick looking wrist band. When I pick that up, it flashes a warning that the battery is low. It crackles, the screen lighting up for a second, then powers itself off with a whine.

I sink back on my knees, and I have the most vivid image of Eric running through the woods, snarling at someone through the band, while he hunted down whomever he was ordered to find. It's a striking scenario, one that becomes tangible when I see the other items in the box. A license to drive the trucks, his name on a packet of paperwork for an initiation class, and a report detailing the absence of someone named Amar.

I put everything back in the box carefully, so it looks the same as it did. When I close the top, something pricks at the back of my neck. I turn slowly, expecting Eric to have returned, and my stomach sinks, knowing that he won't be pleased with me going through his things.

Fully prepared for a lecture, I shut my eyes, and the voice is tenser than ever.

"That shit feels like a lifetime ago."

When I look over, Rylan leans into the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.

"We all had them. The watches with the wrist communicator. The guns from Erudite, the orders, the notes on the Divergents. Even Max was in on it." He tilts his head, and his stare turns far away. "If I could change anything, it would be how long I listened to Jeanine. That and agreeing to wear the uniforms she sent. They fit weird."

"I didn't hear you come in," I rise to my feet. "I um, sorry, I don't know what I was looking for. I just… thought I'd open his closet and see what's inside."

"Oh, I don't care. Eric would. But only because there's paperwork that says he's guilty of crimes he most definitely committed." Rylan straightens himself up. "Sorry to scare you. I let myself in because I know Eric told you not to answer the door because he told me he told you not to answer the door so I figured you definitely wouldn't answer the door." He pauses to flash a bright grin at me, but it doesn't meet his eyes. "I'm supposed to walk you downstairs to Eric."

"Is everything okay?" I shut his closet, stopping when Rylan doesn't answer. "Rylan?"

"Yeah. Great. This morning, Jason went to meet with some people, and he brought someone back. Eric wants to see if you know her." Rylan makes a face like he doesn't approve of this plan. "I didn't know her, and I know everyone, but maybe you can help."

"Sure." I agree, wondering if Rylan knew many people from Amity. "Let me get my keycard."

"Yeah, no rush." Rylan watches me closely. He follows me out of the guest room and toward the kitchen. "He said that uh, you could take your time if you want. Or not come down there at all. Actually, we could just go to the mess hall if you're hungry."

I stop in the kitchen, and when I look back at him, his hands are in his pockets and he's examining Eric's walls intently.

"We could also go see the armory. It's a wild place. Sometimes, there's a guy with one eye who works there."

"Did something happen?" I open a cabinet to grab a glass, and I notice they're lower now. Eric's cabinets are high, and his cups and plates are usually just out of my reach. "It seems like you don't want to go down there."

"Have you been to where the initiates sleep? It's interesting. We could tour there." He's moved on to staring at the thermostat, and when he turns to face, his smile is less than enthused. "Or the kitchens. We have a chef here. He's a terrible human being, but you might like him. He has a pet tarantula."

"Rylan, did something happen? Is… is Eric okay?" I pull the glass down, and my stomach turns over.

Not at the thought of Eric being hurt but at the idea of being left alone here.

The thought should spark joy in me; I could run, and he wouldn't be here to stop me, but instead, my insides twist like I might be sick.

"He's… fine." Rylan jabs the thermostat with his finger, then shrugs. "Really. We could also go tour the daycare. I like visiting them. The little kids are always impressed by the uniforms. One always asks if I have any knives on me."

I stare at him as he rambles on about visiting someone who runs the daycare. He fidgets with the thermostat again before joining me in the kitchen. He grabs one of Eric's glasses and helps himself to some water, then slams the cup down on the counter dramatically.

"Do you want to see any of those places first?" He asks hopefully. "Please?"

"I should probably go meet Eric."

I find my keycard on the counter, and when Rylan nods miserably, a wave of nausea washes over me.

The nausea intensifies when we reach the docking bay.

Soldiers hurry to clear the area as the trucks pull in. I follow Rylan to the stairs, slowing only so he can flash a badge at someone standing guard. He makes us wait while he radios something in. The extra security precaution catches my attention, but I quickly figure out why.

When the final truck arrives, Eric parks off to the side. He jumps out, then storms around, flings a door open, and pulls someone out. Time slows as I see the girl stumble out of the trucks the same way I did; her bare feet catch the running board, and she yelps, but Eric pays no mind to her. He barely looks to see that she's standing, and they're immediately surrounded by others.

Arlene waits off to the side, her expression grim, a man hovers beside her with his phone pressed to his ear. Eric says something to the girl, but his gaze flies upward. It finds me, unreadable as my I stare down at him. He doesn't smile, but his expression softens just enough that I notice it.

Behind him, the girl crosses her arms over her chest and tries to step closer to him.

Her posture is recognizable as my own was. Her shoulders are hunched inward, and her arms wrap around defensively until a soldier hands her a pair of shoes. She's dressed in black and white, something more tailored than what I had on, but her hair is the same. It's combed, parted, and shiny. When she moves, it wafts away, revealing a red mark on her neck. This one is bolder than mine, already bruising. Her eyes hold the same despondent look that mine did, and she jumps when someone slams one of the truck doors shut.

When someone calls out a code, her stare skirts the area. Her eyes widen as Jason joins them with paperwork in his hand and an ill look on his face. He speaks to Eric, but Eric doesn't answer him. He pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance, then shakes his head when Jason says something else.

"Looks like they're back." Rylan's voice interrupts my staring. "Do you remember the girl? Was she with you?"

"I don't think so." I shake my head, tasting bile.

"Are you sure?" Rylan asks again, not questioning me but giving me a second to look at her "Or is she new?"

"She could be," I answer quietly. "I don't think she was with the same group that I was."

I take in the girl beside Eric. She's tall, very pretty, but visibly shaken. Her hair is a reddish-brown color, and when she follows Eric's stare to me, she looks even more miserable.

"Yeah, Eric said he thinks they had new girls. He said…" Rylan keeps talking as the girl reaches for Eric.

She moves to grab his arm, but he takes off, heading toward me. He's upstairs before I can blink and in front of me before I can hear what Rylan is saying.

"Do you know her?" Eric takes hold of my arm so I don't run. It's less of an arrest and more of a way to keep me against him. I'm covered by him completely, and the girl vanishes from my sight as he walks me back a step. "Everly?"

I can't think.

All I can see is her reaching for him, her hand outstretched as he walked away, desperate to hold onto him.

Eric was safe to her.

Maybe not as safe as she'd prefer, but he had some respite in a nightmare scenario. He'd been the one to drive her away from the tents, and she knew that for the briefest moment, she was okay.

I try to look at her again, but I can't.

My vision blurs as I stare at his uniform until the black is all I can see.

"Everly, do you know who she is? Max thought you might."

"I don't want her to stay with you," I blurt out. "Where is she going to sleep? Is she staying with Jason?"

A wave of dizziness washes over me, so much so that I hold onto Eric's arms to keep myself steady.

"She shouldn't be here. She's –"

I can't finish my sentence, but I don't even know what I'm trying to say. I do know that I'm being incredibly selfish. If the girl suffered the same fate that I did –tricked into being a part of an auction and sold to a man who could do as he pleased – then she deserves a fair shot. She deserves to feel safe, to be kept away from the men and Shannon, to be reassured no one will hurt her. She deserves someone who can empathize with what she just went through or help her adjust to life in Dauntless.

I don't think that person can be me.

I envision her in Eric's apartment, the bed having finally arrived, or maybe in his room. I see myself trying to sleep alone, struggling with the knowledge that I'd then be fair game for anyone who broke into Eric's apartment or was grabbed in the middle of the night by someone from Shannon's group. He might like her better. She might be easier. She'd probably willingly do whatever he asked, maybe more than I could dare think of, in order to keep herself alive. He might like it. Eric could find her braver than me, even if it was only a way for her to stay safe.

My ears ring as Eric says something, but all I can do is stare at his chest. The thick buttons worked through his jacket, and the dark threads keeping them in place.

"She's not staying with us. Everly, are you listening to me?" Eric's voice grows loud enough that I look up. He's staring down at me in confusion; his brow wrinkles when I shake my head, and his cheek tenses. "What's wrong?"

"She wasn't there when I was." I manage an answer, but it's so quiet I'm not sure I really said it. I force myself to swallow, and the panic dies just enough that I loosen my grip on him. "Was there another auction?"

"Not… quite. Jason was given the offer to purchase in advance for a fee. He sent me a few photos, but none of the girls were who I saw. He chose her after we sent him the points. She said there are almost a hundred girls, and someone told her they're selling faster than before. No clue if that's true or not." Eric pauses, and when he looks down, he pulls me toward him. "I was hoping you recognize her."

"If she was there when I was, I didn't see her." I try to step back, knowing my thoughts are cruel. She must be terrified, especially with the suddenness of the purchase and how abruptly this happened. "Where will she stay?"

I peer around Eric to see the girl talking with Jason. She looks less nervous now but equally as distrustful as when she got out of the truck. She looks at me, and when our eyes meet, there is a flash of white-hot jealousy swirling with rage. She keeps looking at Eric like she's waiting for him to return.

When he doesn't, her expression turns furious.

"She doesn't know who you are. We didn't tell her anything. As far as she knows, you've always lived here." Eric says, tilting his head. "She's going to stay with Arlene, somewhere close to the infirmary. We're trying to keep her away from the faction for now. The less she goes through, the better."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"We brought you here and made sure people knew you chose Dauntless. I can't replicate that with this girl. Jason can't, either. Our best bet is to get information out of her and keep her comfortable until this is all over, then figure out a way to get her home." He shakes his head, and when I step backward, he steps forward. "Everly –"

"You said I wouldn't go home." I tilt my head up, and he tilts his down. "How can she go back home? How can –"

"I don't know," Eric admits, but his tone is unexpectedly sharp. "I'm not sure how any of this end, but I do know that you aren't going anywhere. Not for a long time. But she's not staying with you and me, and you'll have little to do with each other. Understood?"

"Yeah." My voice dies in my throat. The relief I feel is bitter; I should be pacified in knowing the girl won't be around me, but I feel like the worst human in the world for not wanting to talk to her. "I just….I don't…"

"You don't have to explain it to me," Eric murmurs. He looks over his shoulder as Harrison shows up to speak to Rylan, but he quickly looks back. "I need you ask her a few questions about Shannon and where she was. After that, things will go back to normal."

"Normal."

I repeat the word quietly, and it's funny sounding.

Normal, isn't this.

It's not being purchased by a man I don't know, nor is it told that she might get to go home while I won't.

I'm not even sure I want to go back to Amity. I can't trust anyone there. Not to mention, Sophia is here, and leaving her alone in Dauntless isn't fair. And I'd be alone, away from anyone who really cared what had happened to me, and left vulnerable in a faction that couldn't protect me.

It's why Eric feels like the best choice, and having someone take him away from me, even in the most strange way possible, makes it hard to breathe.

"As normal as things can be." Eric exhales heavily. "Listen, they're going to take her to the infirmary. Max wants you to see if you can find out the names of who she was with or how she got there. Anything that might help. She wouldn't talk to Jason and he's not certain this isn't a trick of Shannon's to get some inside information."

"Why would she talk to me?" I ask, ignoring the way he's pulled me close enough that I could rest my head against him. "You said she doesn't know me."

"I think she does," Eric announces. "I think she's lying about how long she was with them. She wouldn't tell us much, only that she'd been at the same tents and the process was the same as far as she knew."

"I swear I never saw her there," I counter. My hands are still on him, and he carefully untangles himself from me. "Why do you think she's lying?"

"I just do."

He drops his hands, but not before they take hold of mine. He squeezes tightly, and his grip is hot when he lets go.

"Jason will walk you to the infirmary. This shouldn't take long. When you're done, I'll make sure you're rewarded for helping. Anything she tells you can change this whole thing around. Just ask her what I've told you. Don't give her any information about yourself, and don't let her think you know more than her. Understood?"

"Yeah, sure. I can do it." I agree, knowing I don't have a choice.

I'm not confident I'll get any information from this girl, but I'll try. I have nothing to lose except pissing Eric off if I don't talk to her or making my own situation worse. If anything, I should follow his orders purely to keep myself safe.

With a heavy sigh, I watch Eric head down the stairs toward Jason, and the girl's eyes never leave him.

It turns out that the girl takes being auctioned off far worse than I did.

Even though Jason has made it very clear that he won't do anything to her, she panics the second Arlene begins her exam. I sit beside Jason in the hallway, listening to her scream as Arlene attempts to get close. The crash coming from the room doesn't sound promising, nor does Arlene's page for backup.

"This isn't going very well." Jason chews on the straw of his drink, and his stare is weary. "Eric said you were quiet."

"I was. I didn't know what he was going to do to me," I confess as a few in black enter the room. The screaming dies down, but they don't leave. "Shannon told me to that if I was quiet, it would be easier."

"I told the girl I wasn't going to hurt her. I didn't have much time with her. The guys watching got suspicious, and Harrison pushed for me to buy her so we could leave." Jason glumly answers. "I mentioned she'd be safe, but she doesn't believe me. She only got in the truck when Eric showed up."

"I wouldn't have believed you, either." I confess. "It wouldn't matter what you or Eric said. I still don't know what Eric wants half the time. He said she gets to go home, but I don't."

Jason glances down, blinking at what I've said.

"He means if we can get her home. But it might not work out that way. Best case scenario is we find out who took her, find a way to shut the auction down, and she gets to resume a normal life. Worst case scenario is she stays here for a while, then we find out where she wants to go. She might have chosen a faction." He leans back in the chair, defeat all over his face. "Or maybe not. I think she's older than you."

"Do you know if she did choose a faction?" I look up when one of the guys in black scrubs pokes his head out. He gestures for me to join him, and my hesitation makes him glare at me. "Am I supposed to go in there?"

"Yeah, see if she'll tell you anything. Her name is Hannah."

Jason slumps even further into the chair when I stand. I join the guy acting as security, and when I step inside the room, I'm met with a frustrated look from Arlene and a suspicious stare from the girl. Up close, her skin is ashen and dry, and her lips are cracked. The spot on her neck has been cleaned, but the absence of stitches hints the tracker remains beneath her skin.

She's defeated and scared, but understandably so.

"We're going to take a quick break so Everly can talk to you." Arlene announces. "I'll be just outside. So will security, so don't think of running."

"Sure."

I'm the only one to answer. The girl is silent; her stare stays on me as I sit beside her, and when she looks up, her eyes are glazed over. She doesn't move past, pulling her arms in close, and the faintest shadow of a handprint curls around her bicep.

"Hi, I'm Everly," I tell her, keeping my voice low as the door shuts. "Welcome to Dauntless."

"What do you want?" The girl presses herself against the wall. "Why did they bring you in here?"

"Eric wanted me to talk to you," I answer. "He thought it might help to talk to someone other than the soldiers."

"Are you his wife?" She tilts her head, then her eyes narrow as her stare becomes clear. She sits up, and her head tilts. "No, you aren't. You're too young to be here. You wouldn't even have gone through initiation yet."

I don't answer her.

I glance down at my hands, then back at her.

"They won't do anything to you. They're just trying to help." I tell her. "They helped me out."

"Wonderful." She retorts sarcastically. "I'm thrilled for you. Truly."

"Did you pick a faction?" I hesitate when her lips tremble. "I don't remember seeing you at the Choosing Ceremony."

"Candor." She answers tightly, her nails digging into her palms. "I chose last year. I was doing well there. I took an internship at the courts a few months ago and thought I'd be set after that. I had a whole path planned and look how that went."

"Did you like Candor?" I pull my feet up beside me, ignoring the way she's staring at me like I brought her to the auction. "I've never been there."

She tilts her head further, debating on whether she should trust me or not.

It takes a second, but she does.

"I did. I had my own apartment. I was up for a promotion." She responds, but her tone sharpens with malice. "Do you like Dauntless? Or did he force you to stay here?"

"I do like it," I answer evenly. "And no, he didn't force me to do anything."

My answer sounds like a lie, and I hope she doesn't notice.

"I was curious how you got… to the… auction." I look at her, wondering if she was there with me. "I know a little about them."

She narrows her eyes.

"I've seen them," I continue as she shifts. "Did someone bring you to them?"

"You were there, weren't you?" She demands. "That's how Eric has you."

She huffs when I don't say anything, and her posture turns defensive.

"You really want to know what happened? I was an idiot. I was invited to lunch, and I went. A few of the guys told me they wanted to show me something afterward. I drank whatever they gave me, and the next thing I knew, I woke up in a fucking tent, surrounded by girls who had also woken up there." She bites her lip, and her next words are thick with anger. "Your friend out there must have fancied a wife. He showed up and took me home after a whole six minutes of meeting me."

"How long were you with the people? Was Shannon there?" I try not to look at the door. "And you're right. I was there. I was in one."

She looks away, shaking her head like the memory is one she doesn't want to revisit.

"Three months. I found a way out and wound up getting hurt. They took me back and said they were doing me favor by letting me stay. I was told they weren't looking for anyone so outspoken and my odds would be better if I was less mouthy. They gave me some other advice, told me how to fix my hair and they threw some dresses at me. I quickly learned the men are looking for girls who don't talk back. Jason…" She stops to look down, and her cheeks turn red. "He was the first one to show any interest in me. Come to find out, he's not really interested, and now I'm stuck here with you freaks."

I ignore the insult and the thought that she was there at the same time I was.

"Yeah, I know. Did they tell you –"

"They told me that Amity is the easiest sell. You're from there, aren't you?" Her gaze sweeps over me, and when she's satisfied that I am not from Dauntless, she turns smug. "Shannon said they like the innocent ones the best."

"Does anyone know you're missing? Other than the people you work with? Do you have family who'd look for you?" I keep my voice even while trying to listen to what's going on in the hallway. The faint sounds of someone arguing filters in, but it's too low to make out. "Do you have –"

"Why do you care?" She snaps. "No, I don't have anyone looking for me. I picked another faction, you idiot. The only people I knew were the guys I worked with. The people who I thought were my friends probably didn't even notice that I left. And if they did, what would they do? File a report to the guys I left with? How stupid are you?"

"I'm not stupid. I'm trying to help you," I counter, half wishing Arlene would reappear to dose her again. She's combative in a way I wasn't, but I understand why. "Do you think your friends filed a report? Or your work?"

"Did yours?" She looks right at me, and her eyes flash with anger. "How much did Eric pay for you? When he showed up to meet his friend, they pressured him to buy someone else, but he was adamant he had to get home to you. He barely spoke to me on the drive back. I saw you waiting for him, like he'd ordered you to stand there, gazing at him longingly. Except he didn't, did he? You want to wait for him. You're good with all this, aren't you?"

"I'm –"

"He's gonna kill you. Six of the girls I was with were returned. Two for being mouthy. One for being too aggressive. Two for crying too much. Over a month, five of them disappeared. When Eric is done with you, he'll bring you back for a different girl. A newer version of you. There are plenty willing to do whatever is asked of them to stay alive." She stares, and her lips turn up cruelly. "So, tell me, Everly, does he sound so appealing now?"

"What's your name? I ask, struggling to keep my tone neutral. "What should I call you?"

"Hannah." She answers, her tone sour as ever. "Hanna Evans."

"Did they hurt you while you were there?" My question is quiet, but it makes her wince. "Other than when you ran?"

"Yes." She shuts her eyes, and the anger softens. I see it change into fear, the same unfair feeling of helplessness I experienced. "More than once. They try to keep the bruises out of sight. The last…. the last time I ran, I almost got away. I didn't know it at the time, but there's a guy who stays near the outskirts, looking for anyone who runs. He was lenient twice, but a month ago, he shoved me down a ravine and promised that no one would find me if I ran again. Not a single piece of me. I stayed put after that."

"I never tried to run. But I wasn't there long," I confess. "I—"

"Yeah, well, it doesn't matter. In the end, you were sold to a man who can and will kill you. He'll hurt you. They all will." She shakes her head, and her eyes stay shut. "If you're here to convince me Jason won't do the same, you can get the fuck out and leave me alone. I don't believe a word out of your mouth. If you're happy with Eric, then you're just as bad as everyone else."

"Jason won't hurt you." I protest. "He's good guy. He's –"

"He's Eric's friend, right? Can you tell me how good they've been to you? What freedom has Eric give you? Because I heard about you. All anyone could talk about was what a quick and profitable transaction you were. What an easy sale you'll be if and when he brings you back." Hannah opens her eyes, now wet and glistening. "It's not the first time someone has asked for you to come back. Shannon is hoping he doesn't like you. She's just waiting for him to tire of his boring purchase."

"Why?" I recoil like she's struck me. "I thought –"

"It's a business. They profit off us, and if they can do it more than once, it's even better." She pauses when the doorknob turns. "There are new girls scheduled for the end of next week that they think he might like. They want him back. He's a big spender, your husband."

Her tone is terse, but she stops speaking when Eric strides through the door. He's followed by Arlene, more men in black, and several nurses. When he stops, the look on his face is impressively terrifying.

"We're done for the day." He steps between us, ignoring the flash of panic from Hannah. "Come on."

Eric extends his hand out, and when I take it, he slides his fingers between mine. His grip is as tight as when we saw Shannon, and it turns painful as he pulls me to my feet. Hannah winces when Arlene picks up a syringe, and someone explains to Jason that Hannah will be given a second dose to help her calm down.

"She'll stay here. We'll have a sitter around the clock, as well as security. If the need arises, she stays dosed until she's calm enough to reason with." Arlene decides with a sigh. "Eric, tell Jason he can check her on in a few hours. Until then, whatever she told Everly should be enough."

"I knew it." Hannah struggles to get away from someone holding her back. "He's using you. I hope it feels good to know you're a rat."

She yelps when Arlene stabs a syringe in her arm. Arlene depresses it with a weary sigh; when the liquid is gone, Hannah's eyes start to close.

"Don't take anything she said personally." Arlene looks mostly at me. "When she's calmed down, you can talk to her again if you'd like."

"I can try," I answer around Eric. He stands between us, letting me watch as the nurse helps Hannah lie down. They slide something on her wrist, then clamp the bracelet shut. "What is that?"

"It's both a tracker and a deterrent. There's a very good chance she'll try to run. She won't find her way out, and it's too dangerous to let her roam free. You've earned the privilege, but she hasn't. Not until she can accept that we're trying to help." Arlene's tone loses its edge when she turns to face me. "You did a great job speaking with her. I imagine seeing you is jarring for her, maybe more so than you seeing her."

"Why?"

My hand tights in Eric's. His grip is so strong that I would shake his hand away, but I hold on as though my life depends on it.

"From what I gathered, she'd heard of you as both a warning and a success story. She's presumably jealous that you're alive and unharmed, and terrified that her future will be nothing like yours. If anything, she's given us plenty to worry about." Arlene pushes her glasses up her nose. "If they're hoping you'll come back, that puts us in a compromised position. They're paying attention. And not just to the tracker Eric took out of your neck."

"Right," I crane my head up at Eric, and when he glances down, I can't read his expression. "I don't want to go back."

"You won't."

He sounds angry, but that means nothing.

Eric tugs on my hand to pull me out of the room. He says a curt goodbye to Jason and an even harsher goodbye to the soldiers standing guard. I know he's taking me home, but for once, I don't mind.

I glance back at the exam room, and my heart slips down to my stomach when I see them pick up Hannah and carry her to another room.

"Will you see her again?"

Seated on Eric's couch, I glance up from the papers in my hand. They are a list of names that mean nothing to me but something to him. A few have notes by their name –the words so tiny they're barely legible, while others have an asterisk by them. My name is highlighted, or at least Everly Carlen's name is.

"Who? Hannah? I'll have to speak to her at some point." He walks over from the kitchen and hands me a bowl. I stare at it curiously, and his gaze is amused. "It's ice cream. I thought you might like it after today."

"I've never had it before," I admit. I set the papers down on the coffee table and lean back. "Thank you. Is it good?"

"Some people think so." Eric shrugs. "I don't."

He sits down next to me, too close to simply be sharing the couch but far enough away that he's not touching me.

"Rylan loves it."

"I bet." I take a bite of the ice cream, and it's so sweet it's hard to swallow. "It's really good."

"I'm sure." Eric snickers. When I look over at him, he tilts his head but keeps his stare on me as I take another bite. "I'm surprised Amity doesn't have something similar."

"If they do, I was never offered any." I grow warm when he doesn't look away. "Do you want some?"

"No."

He kicks his feet up on the coffee table. We got home not long after speaking to Hannah and spent the rest of the day discussing it with Harrison. He showed up in a panic, and he asked me to relay everything she said. We went round and round, trying to read between the lines of what she told me, but there was nothing hidden in her words. It was true that Shannon told the girls to make themselves appear soft and quiet, and it was true that there were numerous men who watched the area. The only new pieces of information were that she'd been somewhere near a ravine and that Shannon was expecting Eric to grow bored with me and had girls in mind for him.

Harrison didn't seem thrilled with either of those pieces of information.

After he left, Eric went back to work, and I did nothing. I thought a lot about what Hannah said, and by the time he returned, I was on edge that he would grow bored with me. Even if he'd gone purely to investigate the auctions, he'd still paid for me. He had to want something out of his purchase.

That fear left me standing in his kitchen wide-eyed, attempting to make something for dinner. It was the reason I shook my head when he pried the spoon out of my hand, and I almost couldn't move when he sent me away with the offer to finish cooking.

I felt like he was starting to get antsy and that he'd decided a fantastic way to further his investigation would be to send me back to Shannon with his own tracker.

Before I fully panic, he announced dinner was ready. I sat beside him, more nervous than ever, and the meal was so awkward that he knew something was up. Rather than wash the dishes with him, he told me to go sit in the living room and look at the papers. He promised he'd be right over, and true to his word, he returned a few minutes later with dessert.

"Do you think Hannah was there before you?" Eric reaches for the remote, and his tv screen turns on to reveal a slew of icons to choose from. "Jason said she was there for months. Shannon offered him a lesser price, but it was only good for today."

"She told me she was there for three months. So we would have been there at the same time. Maybe they split everyone into rotating groups." I take another bite of ice cream, but my attention is on the screen. Eric scrolls through the icons until he finds one he likes, then scans down the list with impressive speed. "One girl was trying to tell me they get rid of you if you don't sell. Maybe she was with a different group who hadn't had many bids."

"Yeah." Eric answers distractedly. "Maybe."

"Did they tell you how many they had waiting?" I ask, watching him stop on something that sounds terrifying to watch.

"Not specifically. They gave me the option to see as many as I liked. If I didn't find anyone appealing, I could ask to see more." His answer is muttered with disdain. "Some saw upwards of thirty girls."

"Would you have wanted to see more?" I turn to face him, and his eyes search mine. "If you didn't –"

"I told you. I didn't see anyone else after you," Eric holds my stare. "I chose to purchase you, and things went quickly after that. It wasn't more than an hour later that they brought you to me."

"You never told me why you picked me." I pause with the spoon halfway to my mouth. "You started to but had to leave."

He doesn't say anything.

I may be overstepping my bounds here because he shuts his eyes and tilts his head back. The blocks on his throat stretch, then realign when he looks down.

"When I saw you, you were afraid, but it wasn't because of something I had done. I thought…" he pauses, and his next words are very careful. "I thought you looked vulnerable and that someone else would see that and take the opportunity to do terrible things to you. That they'd take advantage of the situation in ways you couldn't fathom. I knew that if I didn't choose you, you'd be gone. I'd never see you again, and I'd have no idea where you went or if you were still alive."

The spoon shakes.

My stomach turns over, and the ice cream threatens to come back up.

"Most of the men didn't go with honorable intentions. No one there was looking for a housekeeper or a private chef." He tilts his head, and when I make myself nod, his gaze drops to my hands. He takes the bowl from me slowly and sets it on the table. "Out of everyone there, I felt like you deserved more than what awaited you. Like you weren't supposed to be there, and they knew it. They knew that you'd fetch a large price, and the worst of all people would be the buyer."

"What about the others? What will they do them?" I ask, barely able to get the words out. "What about –"

"Lots of things. Things Hannah is prepared for. She might have been told what happens or what could happen. Things you weren't prepared for. Things that you didn't have time to hear about." Eric shifts closer, and my chest tightens when he looks over me. "As someone who has been in a position of such power, it wasn't hard to know what would happen."

I meet his gaze, not quite as frigid as it once was, holding my stare with a slew of emotions I don't understand.

"Hannah will be fine." Eric throws out. "She'll realize she's out of bad situation. It might be a few days, or maybe it'll be a few weeks, but it'll happen. No one here will hurt her."

"She was really mad. She said…she said that I'm just as bad as you guys if I'm okay with being here," I admit. "She said that you'll kill me."

"I could." Eric doesn't look surprised. His lips turn up into a sneer, but it's fleeting. "Anyone is capable of violence when no one is looking. But why spend all the points just to get rid of you?"

"That's true, I guess." I lean back, and his expression darkens. "What?"

"Nothing."

He falls silent.

The air turns frigid, thanks to whatever Rylan did to the thermostat. It matches Eric's mood, and the tenseness lasts until he sighs.

"Did you ever think about leaving Amity?" He asks, his voice low now. "Or did you assume you'd stay?"

"I planned on staying," I admit. "I thought it was what I was supposed to do. Leaving never felt like an option."

"I see."

Eric falls into his own thoughts. He watches me take another bite of ice cream before he turns his attention to the tv. I keep waiting for him to say something else that would make this feel better; his admission that he could kill me isn't surprising, but the notion that he won't because it would be a waste of his points stings.

It shouldn't.

I'm not anyone to him except a way into his investigation.

It hurts in a way I didn't expect. The feeling lingers long after I finish the ice cream and even after I've gone to bed.

It settles into my chest, raw, aching, and heavy.

The feeling lingers.

It sticks to my skin like a band-aid that won't peel off. On Visitor's Day, I am, for reasons I cannot explain, optimistic that someone will show up to see me. I am also optimistic that if they do show up, things will change.

I can't explain why; it just feels like it.

I stand with Eric and Jason, slightly off to the side. Beside them, Four watches with a scrunched look on his face, and I get the feeling seeing the families will set his class back. The first few girls screech with joy as their parents arrive, and the boys who tower over everyone struggle to look brave as their fathers arrive with huge grins on their faces.

The area is filled with people.

They weave in and out, some dressed in dark clothes, others dressed in their factional colors. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sophia's mother looking nervous as someone points to the opposite side of the room, and a flash of blonde as Sophia finds her. She hugs her desperately, and they immediately begin speaking about something. Sophia keeps looking around, and every so often, her mother does, too.

They somehow miss me standing beside Eric.

There are other parents, too. A surprising amount from Erudite, a handful from Candor, two from Abnegation, and Jake's mother, showing up in a hurry as she explains she got lost near the Pit. A woman from Abnegation proudly hugging her son, and a woman from Erudite looks horrified when her daughter shows her bruised arm. A flash of red as someone runs by with both their parents and a flash of black as one of the Dauntless born jokingly shows his parents a hallway they've likely walked down a hundred times before.

"Is that everyone?" Eric asks, cocking his head in boredom. "Or are there more?"

"I think this is it." Jason shrugs.

Eric glances at me out of the corner of his eye, then goes back to typing, staring at his phone.

No one shows up for me.

Though my father watched me pick Dauntless, I have the sinking feeling Landon has told him quite the story, and me being alive doesn't line up with it. My stomach aches with the thought that maybe my mother would show up, but it looks like neither have come.

"They're about to close the gates," Jason announces, turning to face Eric. "You remember when Blythe came storming through here, looking like she owned the place?"

"Don't remind me," Eric mutters. "She called yesterday. I'm tempted to ask her a few questions, but asking Satan for help is a low move."

"Yeah, the last time I saw her, she hit me in the head and told me I was a bad influence over you," Jason laughs, stopping when Harrison walks in with Lauren.

He salutes them both cheerfully, but only Harrison nods.

I haven't been introduced to Lauren, but I've heard them say her name. She's not much taller than me, very unfriendly looking, and the only other trainer Dauntless has. She looks smug when Harrison gestures his approval on something and annoyed when Eric doesn't immediately look at her. Her attention is on him, and his attention is on his phone, looking at what appears to be an account with points.

He clears his throat as he types something, and a painful feeling of loneliness washes over me.

Mothers and fathers reunite with their children, and almost every single reunion is one filled with pride, joy, and warmth. Over the head of one of the smaller initiates, a woman stares, and her eyes are filled with empathy. She keeps looking from me to Eric, and I make the guess that she thinks I am an initiate left out of Visiting Day. I can feel her sympathy when Harrison joins me, and his arm nudges mine.

"You okay over here?"

"Yeah, I'm… good."

I swallow down the truth, bitter to the last drop.

I'm far from good, far from fine, and far from anything except watching as the people around me relish in the respite of familiarity.

The woman watches as Jason takes a call from Max, then says we'll be here for a few more minutes.

"Did someone else show up?" I ask, wondering if maybe someone from my family did come to Dauntless. "Or did they find someone?"

"No, Max needs Eric to sign off on a few forms. He didn't catch him in time, and Eric didn't answer his phone." Jason looks down at me, and realization is all over his face. "Hey, um, you guys want to go get lunch after this?"

"It's nine thirty in the morning," Eric answers offhandedly. He's not paying attention, nor is he hungry. "Maybe later."

"Yeah, sure." Jason looks over my head at Harrison, and they exchange a look I hate.

It's filled with pity, all for me.

Eric misses it.

He approves something on his phone, then smiles blandly as the faction announces it will be locked down until Visitor's Day is over.