Page 124 of The Sixth Fraction

And then I think of Al’s bloated body dragged out of the chasm.

“I’ll find out who Eric is working with in Dauntless,” I say. “They’ll likely be young. Easier to persuade to tell me what they know.”

“Good,” Natalie says. “Thank you, Four.”

Our hour is up. When Tris goes to the bathroom, I pick up all the cups and carry them to the sink. Natalie sets the teapot next to me, then stands on my right to dry the dishes as I wash them. I feel her presence like something creeping up the back of my neck. If I don’t look right at her, she could be Evelyn, joining me at the sink on an average weekday, both of us quiet so we don’t provoke Marcus. All my memories of home are memories of walking on a wire.

“You and my daughter,” she says, after I hand her the first cup.

“Yes?” I say, an edge in my voice I don’t intend.

“It’s serious?”

“It’s new.” I scrub sugar granules from the bottom of the second cup, and rinse it. After a pause I admit, “And it’s serious, yes. At least, it is for me.”

“For her, too, if she brought you here,” Natalie says. “You remind me of your mother. She was—and is, I’m sure—like a cat. Careful, quiet. But step wrong, and its hackles are up in an instant.”

I hunch a little at her words, proving her right. Defensive, Shauna used to say, and she would drum her hands on my shoulders to make them relax. Chill, Four.

“You could just tell me what you’re worried about,” I say.

“I want to be sure you’re kind to her,” Natalie replies.

I rinse out the third cup, and turn off the water, bracing myself on either side of the sink. She doesn’t know me, so she has no way of knowing why that stings so badly. I know all about careless men. I know all about being stuck with someone who’s cruel to you. I don’t intend to be the cause of anyone’s hurt.

But I know how I am. Guarded. Brusque. Not always nice.

I glance at her. She finishes drying the third cup, and sets it aside.

“Tris . . . is one of the most incisive people I’ve ever met,” I say. “She comes alive when things get hard, and she doesn’t tolerate bullshit. You don’t know me, fine. But you do know her. That should be enough for you.”

Natalie’s eyes soften.

“Again, you’re right,” she says.

Tris comes out of the bathroom, then, so that’s where our conversation ends. I put the cups away for Natalie, since they go on one of the high shelves. With the exception of the teapot, it’s like we were never here, our cups put away, our chairs pushed in.

Tris taps the embroidery over the sink before we leave the kitchen. Them before I. Her fingers skim the wall as we walk to the door. It’s like she wants to memorize the feeling of this place. The texture of it.

“There were books hidden under Caleb’s mattress,” she says to her mother.

“Always,” Natalie confirms, with a nod. “Children aren’t nearly as good at hiding things as they suppose.”

“You never said anything to him?”

“You may have noticed I’m not as much an Abnegation purist as I seem.” She smiles, and tucks Tris’s hair behind her ear. “I’m glad he’s in Erudite, if it’s right for him. I only hope he’s asking the right questions.”

“Yeah.” Tris worries at her lower lip with her teeth for a moment and then wraps her arms around her mother. “Love you.”

“I love you, too.” Natalie ducks her head down and whispers something in her daughter’s ear, something I can’t hear.

Then she offers me her hand.

“A pleasure meeting you, Four,” she says, and I think she might even mean it.

Chapter 43

Tris