Tris drops to the floor, landing hard on her knees, as she grabs her chest. She suddenly can’t breathe. It’s as if Ginger’s words pulled every ounce of air out of her lungs. How? Her mind races. There’s no way someone could come onto the Isle without being noticed. Ginger has to be wrong.
“What did you just say?” Granny Nora asks sternly from beside Tris.
The old Queen had rushed to her side only moments after Tris made contact with the concrete floor.
“It can’t be,” Tris murmurs as she begins to rock back and forth. “You’re mistaken, it just can’t be true.”
“I’m sorry, but I saw him with my own eyes. He was brought into the palace by a group of scary-looking men,” Ginger explains, rubbing Tris’ back in an effort to comfort her.
Nora’s composure changes as Tris glances helplessly up at her. Her features are stoic and serious, giving off a commanding presence as she stands there in her nightgown and robe.