Emma's mother gives her a hug and a kiss as she's leaving the house. "Go on, sweetheart. You don't want to be late."

Emma can feel her hands twisting nervously. For once, she doesn't try to stop herself. "But- what if I do it wrong?"

"Oh, Emma," her mother says fondly, and strokes her hair. "Have a little faith, sweetheart. Those tests were made in Erudite, after all. We didn't get anything wrong. You'll be placed in the right faction, and then we can have a celebratory dinner, all right?"

But that means I'd have to be placed in Erudite, Emma doesn't say. She knows her parents are expecting it. They haven't said so, of course; too presumptuous. But it's in the way they talk about the future, always expecting that Emma will be here in Erudite with them.

There are four other factions, Emma doesn't say. Her friend Henry had joked once that they'd wind up in Dauntless, and when her mother repeated it to her father he'd laughed for a solid five minutes. Emma doesn't blame him. Tattoos? Piercings? Jumping off trains? She'd have a nervous breakdown in under a day. She's not any more suited to Candor, or she'd say this all aloud. But there's Amity and Abnegation left, and Emma doesn't know how they pick. Her parents know, they must; her father works with the group that tries to improve the aptitude test. (And if the test is so accurate, why does it need improving?) But they're not allowed to say, and it would upset them if she asked, so she's never tried.

Instead, she just smiles and assures her mother that she'll be fine, and gets on the bus to school. Her brain is buzzing as she slips into a seat and tries to settle herself as the bus jolts down the bumpy road. Aptitude tests today. Choosing Ceremony tomorrow. Aptitude tests today. Choosing Ceremony tomorrow-