Chapter 48

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Tris and I swiftly jump off of the speeding train. I jog a few steps to keep my balance.

Tris sighs as we walk into Abnegation.

"Umm, Tobias?"


"Do you think, maybe we could, umm, stop by my old house so I can get some of my family's things?" She asks quickly.

"Uhh... I guess so. But, how do you know nobody's living there?" I ask.

"I'll take my chances." She says. "I just... need some of my Mom, Dad and Caleb's things. To... remember them. You know?"

"Yeah. We can go." I say.

"Excuse me, can you point us in the direction of the Government Building?" Tris asks a woman who walks by.

"Of course." She smiles. "Go up the street, turn left, and then turn right. It should be straight ahead. Would you like me to take you there?"

"No, I think we will find our way. Thank you." Tris says, very Abnegation like.

The woman nods, as if to say 'your welcome'.

We walk down the street, take a left and a right, when the building comes into view.

"You ready?" I ask.

She takes a deep breath.

"I think so." She responds.

I can tell she's nervous. So am I. This is really important to both of us.

I take her hand as we walk slowly into the building.

"Excuse me?" I say to the receptionist.

"Yes sir?"

"We would like to see our birth certificates." Tris says.

"Are you over 18?"

"He is." Tris says pointing to me. "I'm 17."

"You may see the certificate." She tells me. "I'm afraid you cannot unless you have a parent." She says gesturing to Tris.

"What?!?" Tris says harshly.

"You may not see the birth certificate." She states.

"I'm not in Abnegation anymore. I'm Dauntless." Counters Tris.

"I'm sorry. That doesn't make a difference." Says the receptionist.

I lean close to her, and say quietly so Tris can't hear, "Her parents are dead. Both of them."

A concerned look crosses her face.

"I guess.... I could make an exception."

Tris looks at me gratefully, her eyes filled with excitement and longing.


"I am Tobias Eaton. My father is Marcus Eaton, and my mother is Evelyn Eaton/Johnson." I state.

She looks through the gray filing cabinet, and pulls out a folder.

"Here you are."

I smile. "Thanks."

"You?" She asks Tris.

"Beatrice Prior. My parents are--were-- Andrew and Natalie Prior." Her voice cracks on the word 'were'.

The woman hands Tris a folder.

Tris smiles widely.

"May we take these?" I ask.

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