Tris P.O.V.

"Oh, Beatrice! It is so good to see you again!" my mother says as she opens the front door to my old house. She invited Lucas and I to come visit her for brunch this morning. She claimed that my father had to go on a business trip so there was no possibility of him walking in and over reacting to my—and Lucas's—presence.

"It's good to see you, too!" I say as she wraps me in a hug. Her arms around me remind me of all the hard times that I wanted her to be there for me. All the times I wanted her to mumble that everything will be okay or for her arms to cradle me while I cried into her shoulder. "Lucas, do you remember Mrs. Prior?" I ask, getting down on one knee to be eye level with Lucas. He nods.

"I do. She said I could call her granny," Lucas points out. I nod and stand back up. My mother squats down on her knees and wraps her arms around Lucas. Lucas's short arms stick out a little and lightly touch her back.

"Well, come on inside," she says. I smile as she leads us into the house. All the furniture is still the same like the coat rack that used to sit next to the door. The only thing missing is Caleb and my coats hanging from the little knobs and our shoes on the little pile in the floor. She leads us to the kitchen where cinnamon rolls, fruit, french toast, eggs, and bacon are set out neatly on the island.

"Mom, you didn't have to fix this much for us or you could have at least let me bring something," I say. She shakes her head and walks over to the coffee maker where a freshly made pot full of black liquid is releasing a strong scent and steam. She pulls it off and the little platform and pours two coffee cups with the liquid. She also reaches into the refrigerator and pulls out a carton of orange juice.

"No, silly. I invited you two here. It would be rude if I expected you to bring something," she says. I open my mouth to say something but she has walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway. I quickly move from my spot leaning against the white cabinets to follow her but when I reach the hallway she is returning from the room that used to be the laundry room. It was also where she would hide stuff from my father. She has a box in her hand wrapped in gray paper with green and blue robots. "Lucas, I was out at the store the other day and found you a little something," she says, sliding the box in front of where he is sitting on the bar stools.

"Mom, you didn't have to," I say. She shakes her head and with a simple flick of her wrist, waves me off. Lucas has already made a tear in the wrapping paper and is throwing it in the floor. I quickly crouch down and pick it up, crumpling it up into a little ball. I walk over to the trashcan and drop it in.

"Mom, look! This is what I tried to get daddy to buy me at the store yesterday!" he says. I study the box with a picture of three small pirates on it. Through the clear plastic, there is a pirate ship with the characters from Jake and the Neverland Pirates on it. I smile a little and nod. "Thank you, Granny!" he says. She smiles and nods.

"It was no problem. I am glad you like it," she says. Lucas jumps from his spot at the counter into the floor and is already opening the box. He pulls out a piece of cardboard and starts undoing the twist ties in the back that is holding the ship on there.

"Is it okay that he opens it now?" I ask. She nods and motions to the food on the counter.

"Of course, dear. Do you want him to eat first, though?" she asks. I nod a little and get down in the floor in front of Lucas. After several minutes of pleading and threatening to take his new toy away, I convinced him to eat a small plate with blueberries, strawberries, and french toast. My mother and I both serve ourselves a serving of each dish and join Lucas at the table where he has ate all of his fruit and has a few pieces of toast to go.

We carry on a decent conversation about little nothings, kind of like when your old neighbor is in line behind of you at the grocery store or a friend from high school is your banker. We all manage to avoid saying anything about how my father kicked me out. She also doesn't mention anything about Tobias, and before I know it, we're sitting on the living room couch watching Lucas play with his new toys.

"So, he knows his father now?" she asks. I look away from Lucas to where my mother has a concerned look on her face. I nod a little. I assume she figured out that the book, which she claimed to have read a thousand times already, that the story was about Lucas, about Tobias, and, most specifically, me.

"I guess you know that Four plays for Northern Illinois. He left back when I was still in New York. About a month ago he came back and has bonded with Lucas. It hasn't even been a week since we told Lucas the truth, but Lucas has already adopted him as his own," I say. She grins at the last part with a pleased look on her face.

"So, how long do you think it will stay a secret? You know there are a lot of rumors about you two. Some reporter has even found a picture of you two in your senior yearbook. They might have been interested in you because of the story but since Four is the star quarterback for Northern Illinois they are really going to be interested," she says. I nod. That is a factor in this equation I haven't even considered.

"You're right. I guess that just opened a whole new book," I say.

This was kind of a filler chapter. I know what I want to happen next but I feel like I would be rushing into things too quick. I feel like this story is coming along really slowly, though... So, yeah... All this week I have missed school because of snow days. I just haven't updated because I am trying to read the Maze Runner series... And it's been coming along really slowly... Editing is bad because I hate editing and quickly scanned over it... Please comment and vote!

So, I had an idea... A lot of writers on here that are kind of serious about their stories have Instagram accounts where they share pictures about their stories. Do you think it would be a good idea if I started one? Would you follow me if I did? Please tell me what you think about this idea!

Disclaimer: Veronica Roth owns Divergent, not me.