divergent-excerpt
divergent-excerpt
divergent-excerpt
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chapter<br />
nine<br />
“Since there are an odd number of you, one of you won’t<br />
be fighting today,” says Four, stepping away from the<br />
board in the training room. He gives me a look. The space<br />
next to my name is blank.<br />
The knot in my stomach unravels. A reprieve.<br />
“This isn’t good,” says Christina, nudging me with her<br />
elbow. Her elbow prods one of my sore muscles—I have<br />
more sore muscles than not-sore muscles, this morning—<br />
and I wince.<br />
“Ow.”.<br />
“Sorry,” she says. “But look. I’m up against the Tank.”<br />
Christina and I sat together at breakfast, and this<br />
morning she shielded me from the rest of the dormitory<br />
as I changed. I haven’t had a friend like her before. Susan<br />
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