I’m numb. In my paralyzed hands there’s a note she left on the nightstand. The walls are closing in. She asked me to let her go. She’s changed her mind. I’ve been gut shot before. This is worse. I thought I knew Tris. I thought I knew us. I’ve lost everything. Again. Alway...
I say as Tomas and I roam around the narrow, picturesque streets of Petra with the stone houses that come in a variety of warm colors “Better than Molyvos?” Tomas says, snapping a picture of a café with tables covered with red and green tablecloths. “Yeah. Molyvos is great...