I reach the cleansing station of the Bureau, and my cheeks redden. I see the blue flames erupting from the circular incinerator, and I know what I have to do. I have to remove the clothes from the little girl lying tiredly on my shoulder. I feel awkward, but I know that this only will help her.

-

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"Can you stand?" I ask her, crouching down carefully onto the ground. I set her down and she stands next to me, my hands under her armpits. "Ready?" I ask, letting go of my hands. She stands next to me shyly. "Dada," she says.

-

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"I'm not your dad. I have to take your dress off, okay?" I ask her quietly. She looks at me, and then down at her dress, not understanding. I lift the dress up and take it off. I immediately put it in the incinerator, and take her tiny hand.

-

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"It's time to go to the showers," I whisper to her quietly, feeling my face grow red. She walks alongside me, and the shower heads turn on. Water gushes down onto both of us. It drenches my clothes, but I don't mind because I know new ones are waiting for me in my room.

-

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Once she's thoroughly washed and there is no longer dirt in her toes, I walk with her out of the shower and into the changing room. I take off her soggy wet diaper that is drenched from the shower, and put her in a new diaper. After, I fit a pair of white pants and a small white tank top on her. It's what Tris and I first got when we came here, but smaller.

-

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Once she's dressed, I finally feel comfortable to pick her up again. "Let's go find Nita, okay?" I ask her, brushing her shoulder-length blonde hair.

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"Dada," she responds quietly.

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"I'm not your dad," I repeat. "Nita's the girl with the brown hair and braids." The little girl looks at me, leaning her head onto my shoulder.

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I arrive to Nita at the weaponry. She smiles, looking at the little girl who is resting on my hip.

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"So what are we going to do with her now?" I ask.

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"I talked to David," Nita smirks. "You're keeping her for now."

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"What?" I ask. "No. What about our missions, I need to-"

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"You'll still have some time for those," Nita says. "We have a nursery. She can go there during the day. But you're the one who found her, and obviously she has an emotional attachment to you. She needs to be watched closely for a little while, so it will probably only be for a couple of weeks anyway. Once she gets to a healthy weight and she becomes more able to be taken care of by the Bureau, you won't have to care for her anymore. It'll help her grow. Also, David thinks that it'll be good for you. Better than kidnapping more kids."

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"Where's she going to sleep?" I ask. "What about food?"

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"She's old enough to eat normal food," Nita notes. "She looks about one and a half or two. And, David is having a cot be placed in your room right now. He's also bringing a sack of her needs into the room."

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"Dada," the little girl says again, touching my face.

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"I told you, I'm not your dad," I reply.

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"I suggest you settle her into your room now," Nita says. "It will make things easier."

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"So all of the sudden, I'm a 'parent'?" I ask. "I didn't sign up for this."

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"You're not a parent," Nita says, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. "You're just helping out, for now. Soon we'll find a place for her, a week or two maybe."

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We both watch her as she is perched on my hip. She puts her finger in her mouth and sucks it, looking innocently at me. Then, she puts her hands to her tiny belly. It rumbles.

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"She's malnourished," Nita notes. "We need to get her food as soon as possible."

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"Dinner's in an hour and a half. I think it'll be okay if we wait until then," I reply. "I'm going to take her back to my room."

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"Alright," Nita says. She starts walking towards the door of the weaponry, but then stops, pulling out a small tablet. "Wait a second," she says, walking back towards me.

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"What?" I ask.

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"We got the results of her blood test," she says. "The girl is 90 percent pure. So that means she is damaged."

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Damaged, just like me.

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"That's actually really high for a child living in the fringe," Nita notes. "Surprising."

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I look down at the little girl again. She looks up at me, not understanding what Nita is talking about. I brush a wisp of her light blonde hair behind her ear.

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She's just like me. From a broken family, damaged. She doesn't have anyone left.