Author's Note:
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Hello Readers!
Thank you for sticking with us this far and we hope you are enjoying this FOURTRIS story. We wanted to take a moment to offer a window into our plan for this story, which will hopefully alleviate the stress that some readers may be feeling.
First and foremost - this is a Fourtris love story. Is it a one shot? No. Is it a short story that will be resolved in 4 chapters? No. This is a long book! =)
We are excited to share that we have completed a full outline for this story that will have many ups and downs. We also want to point out that specific plot points are crucial to the long term goal of this plot/story. So we realize it may be frustrating to some that a character doesn't always make the smartest choice, or think through all possible solutions...but 1. It is by design/a choice we are making as authors and 2. We don't personally know anyone that is on point and never makes a mistake or misses a clue in real life. We personally don't fit that description!
And let's be honest - Ms.Tris and Mr.Tobias both make their fair share of poor decisions and mistakes in Roth's true TDS. As they should - they are human and it drove the story.
So that said - - we want to point out that this Part II of our long story is very sad, hard to read, and will be difficult for some readers as it was for us even as authors. That said, there is a reason for it as the life-experiences that our characters, as we choose to portray them, will endure will greatly impact their lives moving forward and more importantly choices they will make. Another glimpse: The next part will be a much more upbeat and romantic (angst and love) part of this story.
We hope that you will stick with us and enjoy the process.
Thank you again for your time and support.
Co-Authors: Fourtris_HEA and DivergentPanda46
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Chapter 12: Baby Sister
Date: Beatrice's Choosing Day is 5 months away (January)
^^Beatrice POV^^
The knife spins, end over end, as it sails toward the oak tree, sticking at the center of the crude line I scratched into the trunk. I used to aim for the big knot situated about a foot below this spot, but the surface of the knot has become quite tattered.
"Your aim is even better than mine once was, Beatrice," Mother beams, rubbing her swollen belly with one hand, over top of the heavy blankets she is bundled in. "You will do so well at Dauntless." I smile at her to cover the way my stomach turns at the reminder of how I am deceiving her. The snow crunches under my boots as I make my way to the tree trunk to retrieve the knife Uriah gave me.
Mother is still training me for Dauntless. She is far too heavily pregnant now to train with me-- even early in the pregnancy she often couldn't due to the injuries Marcus regularly inflicted, so now, it is out of the question.
Situations have changed, and nothing seems to be turning out as I expected.
Mother expects the baby to arrive in three or four weeks. I wish I could be excited to welcome this new little person into our lives, but all I feel now is heartache. Mother broke the news of her decision to me three months ago. She has decided to give the baby to a factionless couple, Ruby and Daniel, to raise as their own. There, it would be "safe" in the factionless sector, where Marcus would not know it had survived and could not get to it.
The idea of having this new little brother or sister in my life had been like a ray of hope and joy shining on me, but just like that, that hope burned out. For over a year I had controlled my emotions, never letting anyone see me cry or break down, other than Tobias. But to lose another person I loved... to lose a baby brother or sister after I have already lost my twin brother... I didn't know how I could bear that. My voice was high and tight as I argued and begged, urging Mother to please reconsider, promising to find a way to keep the baby safe. But even as I blurted these wild promises, I knew that the only way I could keep the baby safe was to take down Marcus myself, and could I guarantee that? I don't even have a plan.
But there is a reason I had held back my emotion since that day, and there were consequences for my outburst-- real-world consequences. The guilt started with a clenching in the pit of my stomach and spread outward until my whole body just felt tired and defeated. Mother was sobbing, and I had caused it.
Mother didn't want to give the baby up, of course she didn't. I knew that, but if I hadn't, it would be clear now. I had been so overcome by my own devastation at the news that I forgot how much harder this must be for Mother. She was doing this for the baby and sacrificing her own joy, hope and dreams.
One day, she told me, I would understand a mother's love. And I know that she is right. It would be more selfish to keep the baby here and in danger.
Mother still believes that I plan to transfer to Dauntless, and why wouldn't she? I am still training, harder than before, even. I could never leave my mother alone with Marcus, even more devastated than she was losing Father and Caleb. I don't ever want to see Tobias again, anyway. Look at all we have lost now! The list becomes longer all the time, and Tobias is far from innocent in this. He pretended that he cared for me, for us. And then he just left us, alone to face Marcus's wrath. Every time I think about him, I can feel hatred building more and more in my heart.
But I do need the training. I will not allow this sickening abuse to go on forever. I have to find a way to save Mother from Marcus myself. I also need to be able to defend myself.
Besides our training and the continued "homeschooling" and usual very long list of chores, I have had some special subjects I have been studying, as well. When the time comes, Mother will deliver in the factionless sector, where Ruby and Daniel live. Daniel drives the trains, so the couple is more stable than many factionless. I have also gotten to know them well and am quite close with Ruby. Should I manage to take down Marcus for good, I am confident that Ruby would give the baby back to Mother. Mother has been through so much already.
In order to deliver there, though we have arrangements with a midwife that Ruby and Daniel trust, I have been training to assist in the birth. Honestly, I am not left with much time these days to be sad and angry, as there is so much to learn and do in order to protect my family. It's up to me now, and I will not run away from the challenge.
"Mother, I think it would be best if we went inside now. I don't want you getting sick out here in the cold, and I should finish the afternoon chores in case Marcus comes home earlier than expected." Mother nods and I help her to her feet, heading indoors with a plan to make her hot tea right away, to take away the chill of the January air.
+++o+++
The water running full blast in the kitchen sink drowns out the sound of the belt hitting Mother's skin upstairs, but can't quite cover her cries. My tears fall on the dishes and mix with the soapy water as I scrub them. I tried so hard to complete everything correctly, but it seems that there are more days that my work is inadequate than days which Marcus finds everything to be satisfactory. And when I fail, it is Mother who pays the price. I remind myself of what Mother told me: "There is nothing that we do to explain this. Marcus is a very sick man. He will always find a reason, and he will never stop." But each time, I worry that she cannot take much more, I worry what the long term consequences of this abuse could be for Mother and baby, both.
When Marcus wears himself out, leaves my mother's broken body crumpled on the floor, folded over her swollen belly, and passes out in the bed alone, I will help Mother to my bed and dress her wounds. It has been four or five months since laying on her stomach for this was an option, so I have become quite skilled at managing the task with her draped across the bed on her left side. Once I finish and put her to bed, I will be up hours longer, completing tomorrow's schoolwork. Marcus checks my progress each day, and if it is incomplete Mother is guaranteed a lesson from Marcus. So I complete each day's work the night before, leaving me time during the day for training and chores. All of this has become the routine.
As I rinse the last dish and turn off the faucet, I find that there are no longer cracks from the leather belt to drown out, just Mother's whimper, which has become softer now. I check my watch: it is 9:15. I must restrain myself from running up those stairs for another fifteen minutes; by then, Marcus should be snoring in his bed. I will never understand how he falls asleep so easily after beating his pregnant wife. That man must have no conscience. He is a monster.
I put away the clean dishes and wipe up the counters, glancing at my watch every few minutes. It is 9:25 when I begin to polish the sink. Five more minutes... just five more minutes, and I can go to Mother.
But I don't wait the five minutes, because at that moment I hear a sudden cry of agony, a cry unlike any I have heard before. "Beatrice!" I can barely hear her strained voice call my name, but in an instant I have dropped the tattered white rag in the sink and am racing up the stairs.
I enter Mother's and Marcus's bedroom as quietly as I can in my haste; Mother lays in the fetal position near the door. Though she isn't exactly the limp, crumpled heap I usually find her as, and instead her hands are clenched into fists and her face is scrunched up as she pants heavily, I can see that this beating was worse than usual. Her torso is naked, and her entire back is a mess of raw flesh, like tenderized meat. Oh, Mother, what has he done to you this time?
I kneel beside her as her body begins to relax. "I need to move you, Mother," I whisper-yell over Marcus's snores. She nods, her face twisted in pain, and I help her to her hands and knees first, then so that she stand on her knees. She supports her weight with her hands on my shoulders and I grip her sides to help pull her to a stand. She can hardly stay upright.
"Um..." I don't know what to do. How can I get her somewhere to clean her up? Then a thought comes to mind. "Lean against my back, you must still use your legs but I'll carry as much of your weight as I can," I suggest. She opens her mouth to protest, then shuts it and nods. We both know there is no other way.
I intend to take her to my bedroom but she stops me as soon as we have stepped into the hall and pulled the bedroom door shut. "Beatrice," she says urgently. "Beatrice, we have to go."
"Go where?" I ask, confused. If we had somewhere we could go, I would think Mother would have left Marcus long ago.
"The baby is coming, Beatrice. We must go to Ruby and Daniel's. Get a towel please, we need to clean up the puddle on the floor." When I look behind me, my eyes widen. How didn't I notice her wet pants? And that cry, her tense body when I found her and the way she suddenly relaxed as if the pain had subsided. Mother's water has broken, and labor has begun.
+++o+++
It is three o'clock in the morning. The midwife, a factionless woman named Esther, is with us. Her silver hair is pulled back into a neat bun and I am oddly fascinated with the way that not once has a single strand come out of place all night. The crease between her eyebrows is prominent-- moreso as the night wears on and Mother's condition worsens-- and her hazel eyes always look focused.
Esther shakes her head, frowning. She murmurs to Ruby quietly, but I can still make out her words. "This is dreadful. Her body is already so weak from the open wounds. I just checked a moment ago, her wounds are infected. Things are very dangerous for both mother and child as a result."
"How can they be infected? I cleaned the wounds as I always do!" I cry, my fear that this is my fault in some way. In my mind I picture Mother's and my rush to get here as we fled the house.
"No, Beatrice, the infection would have happened no matter how well the wounds were cleaned. I found deeply embedded debris, rust...it appears that the item used to strike her was dirty and made her situation worse. Her infection was unavoidable." Esther sighs sadly. "Your mother has a high fever from infection, and I have no doubt it was the terrible beating that sent her into premature labor. I have given her fever reducers, but her temperature has not dropped as much as I would like."
When we first arrived, Esther took a photograph of Mother's back with a special camera that develops the photo within minutes of capturing the image. She gave one to me and one to Ruby, for us each to keep safe, in case we should ever need them as evidence against Marcus.
The labor has been terrible. Mother is in so much pain, and sometimes it feels as though one contraction has hardly ended before the next begins. Her lips have taken on a blueish tint and she is pale with a sheen of sweat. You can tell with a just a glance that she is unwell. Ruby enters the room, her lips pressed together in a straight line. In her hands she carries a fresh bowl of cool damp cloths, and she places one over Mother's forehead.
"We have to get her to the hospital," I say again, shaking my head from side to side. "We can't wait any longer!"
Esther shakes her head. She is a quiet woman and I have only heard her voice a few times, but she speaks now. "I'm sorry, Beatrice. We cannot move her. It is too far, and would be even more dangerous. She would die on the journey, and the baby might, as well. Her best chance is to stay here. We can re-evaluate after delivery."
Tears fill my eyes as I huff in frustration. I've lost everyone else, and I can't lose her, too, or the baby.
I look up at the sound of Mother's voice. "Please. I need to speak to Beatrice. Alone." No. If she is asking to speak to me alone, she must not believe that she will be able to later. Keep fighting, Momma... don't give up. I can't get the words out.
Ruby and Esther exchange a glance and file out of the room. I want to yell at them and tell them to stay, because I can see there is something that she needs to tell me, and if they stay and she can't tell me, then she can't go.
If only it were that simple.
"Beatrice, this is very important," Mother says urgently, but then she pauses to breathe through a contraction, screaming out in pain as she squeezes my hand. I hold back the tears that are burning behind my eyes; I must be strong for her. Just as I have been for so long now.
When the contraction finally subsides and her body relaxes-- more like collapses-- she continues. "You need to know about Divergence." My breath hitches-- I have wondered about that term, Divergent, for years now. Really, for the past few years, I have been too occupied with other things and had forgotten it, but I instantly recall my curiosity when I overheard Mother and Father discussing it years ago. I listen intently; all I know is that it seems to be dangerous.
"Divergents are people who have aptitude for more than one faction," she says quickly, breathlessly. Like she is rushing to get all the words in before she runs out of time. "I am divergent, and I suspect that you are, too, Beatrice-- based on your behavior." My behavior? Am I doing something wrong? Of course I am-- I have never been selfless enough. But I thought that just meant that my aptitude was not for Abnegation?
"Me?" I ask nervously. "And... you are?"
She nods and resumes her quick paced words as her nose begins to bleed. Blood is a strange color. Dark.
I grab the damp cloth from her forehead and hold it to catch the blood. That is when I feel how warm Mother is, not just a typical fever, and much worse than it should be with the medicine Esther gave her. She feels terribly warm and clammy at the same time. I open my mouth to call Esther back into the room, but Mother grasps my wrist tightly, stopping me.
"Listen to me, Beatrice. We are not dangerous, but people are afraid of what they do not understand. Every faction conditions its members to think and act a certain way. And most people do it. For most people, it's not hard to learn, to find a pattern of thought that works and stay that way. But our minds move in a dozen different directions. We can't be confined to one way of thinking, and that terrifies our leaders. It means we can't be controlled. And it means that no matter what they do, we will always cause trouble for them. If they find out, they will kill you."
I gulp. Kill me?! I don't have time to think any more about it because she is still hurriedly talking, trying to get as much in between contractions as she can. "You will be aware that you are in a simulation during stage two of Dauntless initiation. You have to pretend that you do not know you are in a simulation. You are supposed to think it's real. Just respond to the situation as a Dauntless would. At your aptitude test, too." I nod-- I am not sure I entirely understand, but I know we are running out of time. It's enough information-- it will have to be. I will figure it out, if I go to Dauntless. I don't know what I am doing, yet. I hope Mother makes it through this, then this won't even be a worry.
"Okay, Momma," I choke out. "I understand. But you must save your strength, Mother. You can't leave me!"
Mother shakes her head and clasps her hand to her chest. Her eyes seem unable to focus on my face. Something is not right. I don't let her stop me this time-- I call out. "Esther! Ruby!" I scream their names over and over until they rush into the room.
Esther examines my mother's eyes as her lips purse in a straight line, thin and tight. She then puts her hand to Mother's forehead to feel how warm she is. She looks at me and frowns, and I know she has come to the same conclusion I did a few minutes ago: the fever reducers are not working.
As Esther checks to see how soon Mother will be able to push-- I think this baby needs to come out now, if Mother has a chance to survive this-- and Mother closes her eyes. She looks so pale and weak as she speaks.
"Beatrice," she gasps. "Keep the baby away from Marcus, whatever you do. You must go to Dauntless. And you must keep the baby safe."
I look to Esther, who looks back at me with sad eyes as she watches over Mother. "It's time to push, Natalie," she says softly.
Mother nods and as the next contraction hits, her face scrunches and she growls out a yell, in voice I have never heard come from her mouth before. Her hand grasps mine and tightens around my fingers. Contraction after contraction, with short reprieves in which she simply gasps and pants, and I take the job of changing the damp cloths on her forehead. The midwife announces that the baby is crowning and Mother pushes again. Through the window's cracked glass, I can see the sky beginning to turn from pitch black to a deep blue. Dawn will break soon.
"Good push, Natalie," Ruby calls out. "The head is out, now we just need to get past this little one's shoulders."
"Don't-- don't be sad... for me," Mother gasps. I can see how much effort it takes for her to get these words out. "I am... home... coming home." My tears begin to spill. "I will be... with Andrew..."
"Don't leave me, Momma!" I sob as she pushes one more time. I hear the the newborn's wail and as Ruby hurries with the baby, announcing that it's a girl, and pushes her into my arms, still tethered to our mother, covered in blood. She is small and her face is red, but her cry is strong.
I lean down with the baby so Mother can see her, and I carefully place the baby on Mother's chest, keeping my hands near in case she is too weak to hold the baby in place. She strokes the baby's head with a few fingers. Then she takes my hand and places it on the baby's back, her own hand over top and wrapping her fingers around it, whispers, "Take care of her." She smiles. "Be brave, Beatrice. I love you."
Then Mother's eyes roll back into her head and she convulses; her breaths become even more shallow. Her hand is still grasping mine, and then she stills, and her grip on my fingers goes slack.
I let myself become consumed by my grief, choking out a sob from deep in my chest as I move my arm, letting Mother's limp hand fall away from its position over my hand and the baby. It takes every ounce of strength within me, despite my sister being so small, to lift her off our mother's still form. I hold my baby sister tightly to my chest. But I must be strong, for her. I give myself three seconds to wallow in sadness, then I must keep going. I must protect my sister, as I promised Mother I would.
I close my eyes and hug the baby to my chest. Caleb's smiling face flashes in my memory. What would he think of our tiny, sweet little sister? One. I remember the feel of my mother's hand brushing over my hair as she cuts it, and I see her smile at our reflection in the mirror. Two. I remember the way she and my father looked at one another, I see their fingers intertwined across the dinner table. Three.
I straighten and open my eyes, pushing all emotion away. Ruby looks to me with tears in her eyes, and I make a decision. My little sister... she's all I have left, and I cannot let her go. I can keep her safe, without leaving her to grow up factionless.
"Ruby." My voice is tight and wavers, my body has not yet responded to the way I have pushed aside my emotion. "I am going to transfer to Dauntless in June, and I want to take the baby with me. I will raise her as though she is my own daughter. No one will ever know the truth. She is all I have left. Will you care for her, until then? Marcus... he can't know that she survived."
Tobias may be at Dauntless, but Marcus will never come to see him. When Tobias left, Marcus became borderline obsessed with the Faction Before Blood creed. He will never visit Tobias, and Tobias will never visit him. Dauntless will give me-- us-- a fresh start. No one will ever need to know that Natalie is my sister, rather than my own daughter.
Tears stream down Ruby's face as she nods. One of her hands cups my cheek, but I don't let her come any closer; I cannot let her embrace me. I will break if she does, I will shatter.
"What's her name?" Ruby asks, peering at the sweet baby's face. She is moving her head side to side, searching for something, so I offer my little finger and she sucks at it hungrily.
"Natalie," I answer. "Her name is Natalie."
+++o+++
There is a mirror in the room next to the one where my mother's still body lays. I check myself over in it as my baby sister's cries quiet. Despite being three weeks early, the midwife has proclaimed Baby Natalie healthy. With the beating that Marcus gave my mother, the midwife commented, it was a miracle that the baby sustained no injuries. Ruby is caring for her now.
I look at my watch. It is nearly six o'clock in the morning on January 15-- the people of Abnegation will be getting ready for work. Baby Natalie was born, and my mother died, about an hour ago.
I sit on a stool in front of the mirror and stare into it. I have so rarely even looked in the mirror, as I am only permitted to do so for a few short minutes on the second day of every third month, when Mother cuts my hair. Who will cut my hair now? Will I have to live with Marcus? Will I even survive living with Marcus? I must. I cannot leave my sister alone in this cruel world.
I keep staring, but I don't see myself. I can still feel her fingers brushing the back of my neck, my mother's fingers. My eyes wet with tears, I rock back and forth on the stool, trying to push the memory from my mind. I am afraid that if I start to sob, I will never stop until I shrivel up like a raisin.
I slowly breathe in and out before I wipe my tears away with my fingertips, then stand and walk away from my reflection. Just outside the door I see Esther feeding Baby Natalie from a bottle.
"Esther weighed her with this special sling scale contraption," suddenly standing beside me, Ruby tells me. "She's an alright size, all things considered. Six pounds, two ounces. I promise I'll take good care of her, Beatrice."
I bite my cheek to hold back the tears that are again burning behind my eyes; how have they not run dry yet?
I nod at Ruby. "You know I will try to get you anything you need. I want baby Natalie to know me as her mother. I will come often, even in the middle of the night, to bond with her. I can never thank you enough for your kindness."
I smile at Esther, who has heard my decision...she smiles me as though she is proud of me. "Thank you both, Ruby and Esther. Thank you so much."
"Whatever you need, Beatrice." Ruby's eyes shine with tears. "Natalie was an amazing woman and I cared for her very much. I will do anything I can to help her daughters."
I study my sister's tiny face for a moment, committing it to memory. She has a spattering of blonde hair on top of her head. Her ears stick out a little... like Tobias's. But otherwise, she is all Mother... all me. She has a more petite version of my long nose, she has my lips-- not too thin and not too plump-- and my light skin tone. Mother's light skin tone.
Her eyes flutter open and they take my breath away. They are a deep blue. It's like looking into Tobias's eyes. I always loved his eyes... but now they just bring me more pain. I will love those eyes anyway, because they belong to my sister, the only family I have left, just as I am now all Natalie has, too.
I kiss my sister-- no, my daughter, I will be her mother now-- with promises to see her soon, and force myself to walk out the door. I can't stop myself pausing with one foot in and one out, glancing back.
I go over the plan Ruby and I agreed to as I walk. I need to sell these lies to Marcus, it is essential that he does not doubt my truthfulness on any of this. It's a good thing that I could never be Candor.
As I enter the Abnegation sector and make my way home, I am torn by a desire to literally drag my feet and postpone arriving home-- well, what was once home, but now can really only be referred to as Marcus's house; it's not really a home when everyone I loved in that house is dead, is it?-- and an impulse to stomp into that house and scream at him.
But I must not lose my head. I am all little Natalie has now. I must be wise in how I handle myself. Although my mother has died, and there is a body with evidence of his abuse, I will not go to the authorities to turn Marcus in for his crime. I will take no risks when it comes to Baby Natalie, and taking Marcus to trial would be just that-- a risk. Nothing will bring Mother back, and the safest thing for Baby Natalie is prevent Marcus from ever knowing that she exists.
I arrive to my front walk exhausted and feeling battered. Dried blood stains my dull gray robes, though I did fix my hair before I left the abandoned building that houses my dead mother and my newborn sister. It is strange to think that I lost my last family member just as I gained a new one; at least I'm not truly alone. I have someone to live for, someone to love. Someone who needs me.
When I blink, I see my mother's kind, serene expression. I feel her hand squeeze mine. She is selfless and brave and beautiful. No, was. That is death—shifting from "is" to "was."
"Beatrice?" Robert's voice startles me, draws me away from the walk to the house I once lived in with my family. I move down the cracked sidewalk to meet him. "Beatrice, what happened?" He stares at the brown-red stains on my clothes.
"My mother..." I gulp, preparing myself for the lie. "The baby..." I let the tears well in my eyes. "The baby came early. They didn't make it."
"They?" Robert repeats, eyebrows furrowed. "Just the baby, right? Not..."
I shake my head. Robert hesitates, then wraps his arms around me, right there on the sidewalk. I stiffen. This is too public, and I don't want Robert's arms around me. There are only a few people whose embrace has ever truly comforted me. Three of them are dead now, and the fourth betrayed me.
He sighs and drops his arms. Then he presses one hand to my upper back, pushing gently to propel me forward. "Come inside with me." His tone leaves no room for argument, and I am relieved to have somewhere else to go, instead of into that house. The house that contains my memories; the house that contains him.
The Blacks' home is as quiet as one would expect an Abnegation house to be. Susan is washing the breakfast dishes as Mrs. Black packages the lunches, and Mr. Black is at the table with the newspaper.
It is Mrs. Black who notices me first. "Beatrice." Her eyes are wide for a moment before she schools them back to the placid mask expected of the Abnegation.
Susan makes me a cup of herbal tea, and Mr. Black sends his children out the door to school while he and Mrs. Black stay back to tend to me. I tell them what happened, adding the lie about the baby's fate. I also fabricate a story to explain why Mother and I were not in our home when labor began. Marcus can never know that his daughter survived, no one can ever know. That secret must stay with myself, Ruby, Daniel, and the midwife, Esther, alone.
"You have been through too much, Beatrice," Mr. Black laments. "If there is anything we can do..."
"And poor Marcus," Mrs. Black adds. I flinch, but disguise it quickly enough, and they do not seem to notice. Or maybe they think that I am feeling sympathy for him, as well. It doesn't matter. "He adored Natalie. I noticed as soon as they married."
"I have not even had a chance to speak with him yet," I admit. "I don't know how he will take it..." An idea comes to mind. I only hope that I can be convincing in the delivery of my reasoning. "I don't know if caring for me, after everything, will be too much for him." I wait for them to suggest what I hope they will, and I am not disappointed.
"You know you are always welcome with us, Beatrice," Mrs. Black offers gently. "We would be happy to lighten the load for poor Marcus."
A crushing weight is lifted from my chest at her words. "Thank you so much, Mr. and Mrs. Black. That is a relief to hear; I do not know how Marcus will take this tragic news. His wife and child... my mother and brother..." Just to lower my risk of discovery later, I will be telling Marcus that he had another son.
Mr. Black assures me that the council should approve of the arrangement should it be necessary. I make a mental note to talk to Councilman Jonah; he was a friend of my father's and has known me for my entire life. He will help make this happen, I am sure of it.
I thank the Blacks once I have finished my tea and trudge back to Marcus's house.
When I gently latch the door, I turn to find Marcus sitting at the dining table, his eyes black pits of rage.
"Where have you been, Beatrice?" he asks quietly, standing, towering over me. Quiet is dangerous with Marcus. "Where is my wife?"
Everything about the past twelve hours-- the past two years, really-- has been too much, and I feel like my very sanity is at its breaking point. A laugh bubbles in my stomach. Hysterical. I have to suppress hysteria if I'm going to help my sister. I have to forget myself.
"Dead," I answer. "Between her injuries and the early labor last night's trauma sent her into, she died, and so did the baby. They're gone, Marcus."
Marcus stumbles back, falling back into his chair, shocked. I don't know why he is surprised. This isn't the first time he's killed his wife and child-- isn't that how Tobias's mother, Evelyn, died as well? None of us knew it at the time, but I can only assume the cause of her complicated labor was similar to my mother's.
I need to take the lie further. Lies require commitment. I must answer his questions before he can ask them. "Mother was so badly beaten... you had abused her so badly last night... that I needed to try to get her to the hospital in Erudite. We were walking by a deserted building when her water broke and labor began. She could not continue; she could hardly walk as it was, thanks to your belt." He stares at me with wide eyes. "My mother and baby brother died on the floor. The factionless helped me; they prepared the bodies for cremation."
I try to stop the words, but they are out of my mouth as if they've taken on their own life, their own will. "They're gone... because of you."
Marcus flies to his feet, but he doesn't intimidate me. I know how to defend myself. Be wise, Beatrice, I remind myself. You must look out for baby Natalie.
"I did it for her own good... I was trying to make her better... make you better."
"Tobias, too, right?" I have to stop doing that! Think before you speak, Beatrice!
"Yes," he hisses. "What kind of father and husband would I be if allowed my family to run amok, to go against the ideals of the faction I am entrusted to lead? They needed to learn."
"I know what those questions are: excuses," I tell him. "'Human reason can excuse any evil; that is why it's so important that we don't rely on it.' My father's words."
"I am your father now, you little--" Marcus rages, but I interrupt him.
"We both know that you don't want me, Marcus."
"No one will believe you, Beatrice," he sneers.
"Maybe," I say. "I don't have much to lose. I have no one left." Lies. "I want to leave this house and all its memories and you. I will go live with the Blacks. If you don't stop me, I will tell no one what you did. But if you cause problems for me with this, I guess we'll find out who they believe. I have a photograph of Mother's back, thanks to one of the factionless. You will never find it; you'll only see it if you interfere with me and force me to call the leaders of the other factions and show it to them. Let me assure you, I will not waste my time with your corrupt friends in Abnegation." I pause for just a moment to watch him process my words.
"I will admit," I continue, "that your lies about Mother's health were smart. All this time, you've convinced the people of Abnegation that my mother was ill. That no one saw her, and that I was kept home from school to help care for her, because she was so sickly. Well, congratulations, Marcus. Now Mother has died at your hand, and all your lies will continue to cover your crimes. Why would anyone question that childbirth could kill a woman so sickly, and her child? But with those pictures... the deaths of two wives and two infants seems awfully suspicious, doesn't it, Marcus?" I can see fear creeping into his gaze.
"Think of it this way," I tell him. "The Blacks will allow me to live there until my Choosing Day in June. They've already offered. It's only five months away now." I bite my lip nervously. I have to get this right. "You can pretend you are so heartbroken over their deaths... that you can't take care of me, too. Thank how sorry everyone will feel for you, Marcus."
Marcus contemplates my proposal for a moment, then nods. "Fine. You're a worthless girl anyway, and I don't want you."
I nod. "I'll have my things packed and be gone by the end of the day. If you go ahead to work, expect to see me there to speak with Councilman Jonah for approval on this living arrangement."
Marcus watches me climb the stairs, and he says nothing. I hate him. I hate him for all of this, and Tobias, too. Tobias leaving after making me believe we would be safe... leaving that statue out to antagonize his father at the worst possible moment, leaving us to deal with the consequences... I hate both of the Eaton men for all of this.
My mother is now gone. I will never allow either of these men to hurt me or my daughter again.
I will protect my baby... my family. I will choose Dauntless, not for a boy, not for my mother, but for me, because it is where I belong. Dauntless is where my daughter and I belong. I know that Dauntless will accept a single teen mother. In exactly five months, Natalie and I will be free.
++o+ Chapter End +o++