"I will tell you," I say, chewing on my lip before glancing up at her, my best friend who is miraculously still alive in this city. The threat of tears stings at the edge of my vision, and I have to blink several times to clear that feeling. "But not today. Not on your birthday. You deserve to be happy, today. And to celebrate." Not mourn, I think, knowing how much there is to tell her.

"But yes," I manage a nod. "Something happened to Uriah." The way something happened to Al. Will. Marlene. Tris herself. The list of my dead friends kept extending, back in Chicago.