Tris froze as soon as the guards came, shrinking back. When Rosana took over, she closed her eyes, and waited, apprehensive and trembling slightly. Forcing herself to remain still, she watched as Nathan picked out a few items. She had never really liked any of her clothes, and the beachball creeped her out. Maybe that, she decided, was why she always kicked it at the wall. Her true favorite things were taken much earlier. The first, a small golden angel statue with a shining, silver sword, had been taken on the grounds that it was too sharp for some one in a suicide protection room. Tris agreed that it was sharp, but she had never used it to cut or anything. The statue had been a gift from Miriana, her first adopted mother in the orphanage, and one of the only people she had ever trusted.<br/>The second gift had been a lovely woven Indian bracelet, made of dyed leather straps that were so very soft. Tris sighed, remembering the boy, Hach'net, who had given it to her. The guards had taken it away, saying she would try to choke herself. Finally, there was the orange and black basketball she had received from a kid named Daniel Walsh. He had been sixteen, when the one year old was brought into the orphanage, bleeding lightly and in a coma. Daniel had helped Miriana take care of her, and had taught her basket ball. He still came to visit her occasionally, but he hadn't received a license to adopt yet. The guards had taken her basketball, saying she could no longer have it, because it was against orphanage rules. Tris knew the truth, but she hadn't said anything. Breaking from the memories, at Nathan's voice, she listened quietly. When Rosana asked her about eating, and ice cream, she looked confused. "Wh-what's i-ice c-cream?" she whispered, barely audible.