Mirrors cover the inner walls of the room. I can see my reflection from all angles: the gray fabric obscuring the shape of my back, my long neck, my knobby-knuckled hands, red with a blood blush. The ceiling glow white with light. In the center of the room is a reclined chair, like a dentist's, with a machine next to it. It looks like a place where terrible things happen. "Don't worry," the woman says, "it doesn't hurt." Her hair is black and straight, but in the light I see that it is streaked with gray. "Have a seat and get comfortable," she says. "My name is Tori." clumsily I sit in the chair and recline, putting my head on the headrest. The lights hurt my eyes. Tori busies herself with the machine on my right. I try to focus on her and not on the wires in her hands. "Why the hawk? I blurt out as she attaches an electrode to my forehead "Never met a curious Abnegation before," she says, raising her eyebrows at me. I shiver, and goose bumps appear on my arms. My curiosity is a mistake, a betrayal of Abnegation values.