Page 12 of The Sixth Fraction

“Beatrice!”

I recognize Caleb’s voice before I see him, and then he crushes me into a hug.

“Are you okay?” I ask him. “Your arm—”

“I’m fine,” he says, and he pulls back. His eyes are wet. “You didn’t— You haven’t—”

“What is it?” I haven’t seen Caleb cry in years. “Is Mom okay? Dad?”

He nods. His Adam’s apple bobs.

“Robert,” he says. “Robert’s dead.”

Chapter 7

Beatrice

Hours later, my mother puts a glass of water in my hand. “Drink.”

I do as I’m told. I didn’t realize how thirsty I was until I took a sip, and pretty soon the glass is empty.

We’re sitting in our small living room, surrounded by people. Mr. and Mrs. Black are on the sofa, with Susan between them. She looks how I feel, like she’s still caught in a dream. Mrs. Black is weeping.

There’s food in the kitchen, on all the counters. I watched people bring it in, loaves of bread and bowls of savory porridge and hard-boiled eggs and pots of soup. I’ve never felt less like eating, but I want more water, so I walk into the kitchen with my empty glass.

Only the oven light is on, so the room is dark. My father is washing a stack of bowls. I forget about wanting water, pick up a clean cloth, and stand beside him to dry the dishes as he finishes washing them. He bumps me with his shoulder in greeting.

“Where did you go, during the attack?” he says. “One moment you were there, and I was trying to get to you . . . and the next, you were just gone.”

His tone is careful, neutral, but I see a tremor in his hands. He must have been as scared as I was.

“After that woman fell—” I think of the shape of her body on the ground, the needle in her neck, and I force myself to keep talking. “Someone helped me up and showed me the emergency exit. And then . . .”

I pause. I think of the woman with the gun, dressed in Amity clothes. The woman who looked like Evelyn Eaton.

“If I saw something strange,” I say, “who would I tell?”

“You saw something strange?” Again, he sounds neutral, like he’s trying not to upset me.

I nod. Then I wonder if I saw anything at all. It was dark. Maybe that woman wasn’t Evelyn Eaton. How could she be? Evelyn Eaton is dead.

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“You can always talk to me, Beatrice. No matter what.”

I think of Tori telling me I’m Divergent. That it’s dangerous for me and anyone I tell. I think of watching the Dauntless arrive every morning with Robert. I think of what I was considering at the Choosing Ceremony, right before—

No. There are some things I can’t tell my father.

“Do they know how Robert—how it happened?” I ask him. I should have asked hours ago, but the specifics didn’t seem important then. Robert was gone; the particulars couldn’t change that. All I could think about was his small smile as he led the way between the stacks in the library yesterday morning. We’re right on time. He always remembered to drag the chair over for me, so I could see the Dauntless arrive.

“He was shot,” my father says.

It’s not the answer I was expecting. I thought Robert was crushed by the crowd or injured in the chaos—not shot.

“The Dauntless were carrying needle guns,” I say. “Needle guns can’t kill people, can they?”

“No, they can’t,” my father replies, in a tight, hard voice. “But the Dauntless weren’t the only ones with weapons.”