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Автор: Вероника Рот
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Детская проза
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780007420438
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      DIVERGENT

      VERONICA ROTH

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       Copyright

      HarperCollins Children’s Books An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF

       www.harpercollins.co.uk

      Copyright © 2011 by Veronica Roth

      Veronica Roth asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of the work.

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

       HarperCollinsPublishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication.

      Source ISBN: 9780007420414

       Ebook Edition © 2013 ISBN: 9780007420438

       Version: 2016-08-26

       Praise For Divergent

      “DIVERGENT is a captivating, fascinating book that kept me in constant suspense and was never short on surprises. It will be a long time before I quit thinking about this haunting vision of the future.”

      —JAMES DASHNER, NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF THE MAZE RUNNER

      “A taut and shiveringly exciting read! Tris is exactly

       the sort of unflinching and fierce heroine I love.

       I couldn’t turn the pages fast enough.”

      —MELISSA MARR, NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF WICKED LOVELY

      “Well written and brilliantly executed, DIVERGENT is a heart-pounding debut that cannot be missed. Tris stands out in her action-packed, thrilling, and emotionally honest journey to determine who she wants to be in a society that demands she conform. It’s dystopian fiction at its best!”

      —KIERSTEN WHITE, NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF PARANORMALCY

       Dedication

       To my mother, who gave me the moment when Beatrice realizes how strong her mother is and wonders how she missed it for so long

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Chapter Eighteen

      Chapter Nineteen

      Chapter Twenty

      Chapter Twenty-One

      Chapter Twenty-Two

      Chapter Twenty-Three

      Chapter Twenty-Four

      Chapter Twenty-Five

      Chapter Twenty-Six

      Chapter Twenty-Seven

      Chapter Twenty-Eight

      Chapter Twenty-Nine

      Chapter Thirty

      Chapter Thirty-One

      Chapter Thirty-Two

      Chapter Thirty-Three

      Chapter Thirty-Four

      Chapter Thirty-Five

      Chapter Thirty-Six

      Chapter Thirty-Seven

      Chapter Thirty-Eight

      Chapter Thirty-Nine

      Acknowledgements

       Back Ads

       About the Publisher

       Chapter One

      THERE IS ONE mirror in my house. It is behind a sliding panel in the hallway upstairs. Our faction allows me to stand in front of it on the second day of every third month, the day my mother cuts my hair.

      I sit on the stool and my mother stands behind me with the scissors, trimming. The strands fall on the floor in a dull, blond ring.

      When she finishes, she pulls my hair away from my face and twists it into a knot. I note how calm she looks and how focused she is. She is well-practiced in the art of losing herself. I can’t say the same of myself.

      I sneak a look at my reflection when she isn’t paying attention—not for the sake of vanity, but out of curiosity. A lot can happen to a person’s appearance in three months. In my reflection, I see a narrow face, wide, round eyes, and a long, thin nose—I still look like a little girl, though sometime in the last few months I turned sixteen. The other factions celebrate birthdays, but we don’t. It would be self-indulgent.

      “There,” she says when she pins the knot in place. Her eyes catch mine in the mirror. It is too late to look away, but instead of scolding me, she smiles at our reflection. I frown a little. Why doesn’t she reprimand me for staring at myself?

      “So today is the day,” she says.

      “Yes,” I reply.

      “Are you nervous?”

      I stare into my own eyes for a moment. Today is the day of the aptitude test that will show me which of the five factions I belong in. And tomorrow, at the Choosing Ceremony, I will decide on a faction; I will decide the rest of my life; I will decide to stay with my family or abandon them.

      “No,” I say. “The tests don’t have to