"Ahem," Bellona's sharp voice burst the early morning stillness as well as whatever was left of Hazel's drowsiness. Her attention centered like an axe, finding its target on the peacekeeper staring down at them. Bellona's normally warm eyes were overflowing with thinly veiled alarm.

Heat crept into Hazel's face as she tugged on her arm, but Leo's grip only tightened, his thumb tracing slow circles over her wrist. The gesture, however, did little to calm her.

As Hazel pulled again, attempting to loosen his hold, Leo's grey eyes slid open. His stare was bleary as he took in the figure of Bellona. "Morning, Bello." He mumbled so casually that it sounded like he was commenting on the weather.

Bellona's eyes shifted over his face and then again fell to their intertwined hands. "Leonidas."

That seemed to get his attention. He bolted upright, his spine rigid. Hazel gave another pull, and this time, she managed to slip her fingers free.

"Shift change already?" He stumbled over the words as he raked a hand through his disheveled hair.

"Mmhmm," Bellona's tone was light, but worry shadowed her wide brown eyes. "Long night?"

"Something like that," Leo murmured as he holstered his weapon.

"Well, I'm here to take over. You should get some rest." Bellona sighed. "You obviously need it."

"I... ugh. Yeah." Leo fumbled as he pushed himself out of the chair, gathering the used dishes and the pepper shaker from the bedside table. "Thanks, Bello."

"We'll talk later," Bellona said as Leo shuffled toward the door, the dirty dishes balanced in his arms.

"Right." He bent forward in an abrupt nod before he glanced back at Hazel, "Marlowe."

"Drayton." Hazel saluted him as he vanished into the hallway. The awkwardness was almost unbearable as the room grew quiet. Hazel found herself longing for the relative peace of one of her nightmares. The two avoided eye contact for a few seconds, marinating in the uncomfortableness before Hazel finally couldn't stand it any further and flung herself out of bed.

Striding to the closet in the most normal way she could manage, she continued to avoid Bellona's eyes. However, her stomach was twisting with the pressure of Bellona's stare.

Hazel couldn't imagine how she would feel if she had ever walked in on one of her brothers in such a position. She shook her head. This wasn't some normal kind of awkward sibling protectiveness. This situation was much different. It was completely bizarre, abnormal as all hell, and so far removed from normalcy that it felt like it belonged in a different reality. Shoving the thought away, she ripped open the doors to her closet.

"We should talk about it," Bellona began.

"Nothing to talk about." Hazel tried her best to sound nonchalant as she tore out several items.

"From where I am standing... That seems inaccurate." Bellona's tone was imploring as she glanced toward the blue chair.

Hazel met the peacekeeper's concerned eyes. "Leo just had a long day and was about to fall out of that sad chair in the hall."

"What about the food?"

"Just some leftovers." Hazel shrugged.

"And...holding hands?" Bellona sighed.

"He was helping me get some sleep." Hazel shivered, "You know, the nightmares and all that..."

Bellona turned away as Hazel began to change her clothes. "I appreciate that you're looking out for my brother. I really do." She sighed. "But..."

"I'm sure you would have done the same." Hazel rested a hand on Bellona's shoulder, practically begging her not to continue, "Nothing to worry about, Bells. Promise. Let's not talk about it anymore."

Hazel zipped up her jacket, "Mind going to town with me before Indira and Festus kidnap me and force me into whatever painful tour preparations they have planned?"

Bellona nodded, but her eyes still held hesitation.

By mid-morning, the two were wading through piles of junk. Decrepit toasters, bent sewing machines, and dead electronics of all kinds were heaped in large bins throughout the withering junk shop. Clouds of stale dust puffed into the air as Hazel dug through the items.

The shop wasn't overrun with customers, but it wasn't completely dead either. Bellona covered a cough as the scent of dirt, rust, and old sap surrounded them. "Are you sure what you are looking for is here?"

"Not even a little bit," Hazel replied. She dropped a particularly depressing miniature television into one of the bins.

"What does a cassette player even look like?"

Hazel shook her head, "No clue. I figure if I see it, I will know."

Bellona eyed a particularly hefty pile of weathered knick-knacks and figurines. "Like intuition or something?"

"I guess." Hazel shrugged.

Bellona shifted closer to Hazel, who was rummaging through another pine bin of antique-looking radios. "I watched your Games, you know."

A shiver worked through Hazel's body. The memory of Bellona approaching her in the woods and her bent over Silus's body like she was a rabid animal flashed through her mind.

Bellona pressed on, "You have good instincts and intuition."

Hazel paused her raccoon-like search, peering back at the peacekeeper.

"You are still recovering and healing and everything."

"I guess..." Healing was an ambitious word for whatever was going on at the moment.

"Maybe all of it is clouding your judgment."

Hazel straightened further, fixing Bellona with a questioning stare.

"About this morning..." Bellona whispered.

Hazel sighed, "I told you..."

"Leo's my brother..." Bellona stepped closer. She respected Bellona's sisterly protectiveness. It was something she related to, and Hazel would never fault her for it.

"I would never do anything to hurt either of you. Or even Sable, for that matter."

"I know. I know you wouldn't do it on purpose." Bellona smiled softly, "You have to understand, above all else, we are peacekeepers. We answer to the Capitol and her people. We have a job to do and expectations. I know we all spend a lot of time together, and you and your family have been more than welcoming. But it doesn't change who you are or who Leo is."

Hazel's brows scrunched, "I know..."

Bellona stepped closer, her voice dropping. "Listen. I am not going to tell anyone." The softness of her tone wavered, "But what would have happened if it wasn't me that walked in?"

Hazel searched her face, regret twisting in her gut, "Bells..."

"Hazel Marlowe? Back again?" The sound of Alder, the junk shop owner, calling her name made Hazel flinch. Bellona slid several paces backward.

Hazel shifted her attention to the familiar man standing at the front counter. He was her mother's age, with a thick beard and a warm smile. Alder Holloway was a staple of District Seven and had managed the borderline illegal junk shop for many years.

Hazel glanced again at Bellona before she addressed the man striding closer to the counter, "Still haven't found what I'm looking for quite yet."

"Happens a lot around here," Alder cast a glance over his life's work before turning back to her, "How's the family?"

"As good as can be expected, I suppose." Hazel swallowed, "How's Maren and the kids?"

Alder's expression melted at the edges, "Maren's well. Kids are getting bigger every day. Celtis has doubled in height, and Elma felled her first tree solo this season." His twinkling eyes dimmed, and his face grew subtly solemn, "I heard the twins had a big birthday?"

Hazel nodded, "Yeah, growing like cottonwoods, those two."

Alder laughed quietly as a confused frown crossed Bellona's forehead.

Hazel explained, "Cottonwoods grow faster than normal trees."

"Oh," Bellona mumbled with a twitch at the edge of her lips, sidling closer to Hazel's side. "You all sure know your trees around here."

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"Job hazard, I guess," Hazel chuckled, "That does remind me, though." She turned back to Alder, "Those gardening tools and the easel Rowan bought for the twins were lovely."

Alder stared at her as it appeared it was his turn to be confused, "Rowan didn't buy anything from me."

Hazel's heart sank at his answer, "What?"

"What was the easel made of?" Alder asked.

Concern washed over her as she answered, "Cherry, I think."

Alder's voice grew softer, "I haven't had anything come through here as fine as cherrywood."

"Oh..." Cherrywood was rare in Seven or most of the western part of Panem. The harsh environment did not lend itself to the tree's preferences. It was at home in the more eastern and mid-western Districts. She figured it had come from the junk shop, which at times had relics and antiques from different districts, often traded by peacekeepers or Capitol visitors.

Hazel cast a glance around the shop though she knew it was in vain, "Maybe he commissioned Pilner or someone else to make them." Her words felt as hollow as they sounded.

"Possible," Alder commented, though he sounded less than convinced. An awkward silence fell between them until Alder finally cleared his throat, "You know I do have good news; I think I might have something you would find interesting."

With a subtle smile, he leaned forward, pulling out a bundle from under the counter. When he extended his arms toward her, Hazel's heart skipped a beat. In his hands, he held a metallic box with a slot that appeared to fit a cassette the same size as the one that suddenly felt heavy in her pocket.

"Does it work?" She breathed out, staring at the line of buttons along the contraption's edge.

"I don't have anything to test, but it turns on and lights up and everything." Alder's seriousness melted at the clear excitement written over Hazel's features.

"I'll take it," Hazel said, practically bubbling with triumph.

"There you are, dear." Indira's melodic voice filled the cramped space, dowsing her excitement. Hazel peered over her shoulder to see Indira wading closer like a lost angel. Behind her, Festus was following, scowling at the conditions. The two were wildly out of place in the dusty shop.

As Festus and Indira strode further inside, Bellona tensed, hand inching closer to her weapon. The expressions of the District citizens soured, which was not wholly unexpected for a Capitol escort and a Creed.

"Ugh, what could you possibly be doing here?" Festus grimaced, holding his arms and hands close to his body as if he were afraid to have even his sleeve brush against anything.

"I'm antiquing." Hazel coughed.

Indira narrowed her eyes. "Is that what they call taking home garbage?"

Festus wrinkled his nose at the cluttered, dirty shelves. "Charming."

Alder let out an incredulous sound as he wrapped the player in a thin brown cloth.

Indira sniffed, her eyes scanning the room with disdain. "I don't understand how you can spend time in places like this, Hazel. It's filthy."

Hazel turned to Alder with an apologetic look and reached into her bag for payment. His scowl faded at the sight of the coins she laid on the counter. He nodded warmly as she shoved the bundle to the bottom of her bag, requesting that he give her best to Maren and the kids.

As she practically dragged her companions out the doors, she mumbled, "You Capitol people are costing me a small fortune in tips, you know." Festus, Indira, and Bellona stared at her in confusion. "Never mind."

Within the hour, they had made their way to the center of town. Hazel hesitated at the threshold of the Mayor's manor. She hadn't been back since Silus's funeral.

Bellona patted her shoulder, "It's all right."

Inside, Mayor Kettleberry was waiting. He greeted them with a warm, grandfatherly smile. "Good afternoon, young people." His attention settled on Hazel, "How are you holding up?"

Hazel wondered how such a kind man was friends with Senator Snow. "I'm well, sir."

"You are all more than welcome in my home anytime." He smiled softly as he nodded to her Capitol friends.

They acknowledged him before the four made their way up the winding pine staircase to the second floor. The manor had three hallways of guest rooms, which were rarely used by anyone other than official Capitol staff and visitors. While the rooms didn't reach the level of Capitol elegance, they were the nicest accommodations in the District outside of Victor's Village.

Festus and Indira pulled Hazel into one of their suites. Inside, a round lacquered elm table was set up with stacks of fine paper. Several large televisions flashed almost silently as they played the daily news in the background.

Bellona stationed herself outside the room while Indira pulled the door closed behind them.

"Ready to read some speeches?" Festus asked, patting her on the back.

Hazel felt lightheaded just looking at the pile. The first speech was for District Twelve. Her heart ached as she read the cold, detached words meant to acknowledge Ruby and Ethan.

Halfway through, she tore her eyes away from the page. "I can't read this."

Indira sighed, "You will have to. It's what the Capitol considers is best for you to say."

"I thought I had some sway?"

"Well, within reason," Festus answered.

With a frustrated huff, Hazel returned to her less-than-light reading. The three worked into the late evening, reading through and discussing the thirteen speeches she would have to give. One for each district and then finally, one for the Capitol celebration. Most were brief, paying homage to the fallen while also praising the importance of the Hunger Games and the wisdom of the Capitol.

It was all more pretending. The thought of delivering each speech with a straight face felt daunting.

She could barely stomach her disgust reading through the prepared speech about District Two, particularly Caleb.

"I would rather be stabbed in the hand again than read this," Hazel grumbled as she played with the edges of her bandage.

"It doesn't seem that bad." Indira took it from Hazel and scanned it once again.

"The word honorable is in there like three times," Hazel muttered.

"That prick wouldn't know honor if it bit him in the..." Festus grumbled.

"Festus," Indira scolded. "Have some respect for the dead."

"Being dead doesn't suddenly make you respectable," Hazel muttered.

Festus met Hazel's eyes, a smirk lingering on his lips. "Good riddance."

"Attitude," Indira warned Hazel before turning her beautiful but irritated stare on Festus, "Both of you."

Hazel rose from her chair, stretching her arms and legs as she shivered. The memory of Caleb's eyes in the fridge's reflection sent a jolt through her bones. Shaking off the image, she crossed the room to the windows. The view, though less breathtaking than the one from her home in Victor's Village, still pulled at her heart. It offered a more intimate perspective of District Seven.

Almost every home was visible, and her people were preparing to settle in for the night. Street lamps and porch lights flickered on, windows closed, and plumes of chimney smoke grew thicker. Despite her people being right there, they felt miles away.

Hazel pressed her forehead against the glass; the coolness against her skin did little to calm her nerves. Just imagining herself delivering those hollow, scripted speeches sent waves of nausea and anxiety coursing through her. With a deep sigh, her eyelids fluttered closed.

"None of this is easy," Indira's voice cut through her thoughts. "But maybe it would be simpler to just read what's been planned."

"Planned." Hazel turned back to Festus and Indira. They were finally alone, with Bellona guarding the hallway. It was as good a time as any. "Sounds like my Victory."

Festus exchanged a tense look with Indira.

"Hazel..." Festus took a deep breath.

Hazel met his stare straight on, "Did you know?"

"No," Indira insisted.

"Yes," Festus murmured.

Hazel's gaze locked on him.

"Kind of..."Festus tapped his foot against the soft rug, avoiding her eyes. "At first, it was just a rumor, unfounded gossip."

"When have the Creeds concerned themselves with rumors?"

Festus sighed. "I usually don't, but there was talk of the Games being rigged. Nothing solid, though there were hints."

Hazel ran a hand through her hair as she sorted the information alongside what she already knew to be true.

"It wasn't until after..." Festus paused, his face scrunching as if he had bitten down on a particularly juicy, disgusting pickleberry. "And all Trask's bragging..."

Hazel's heart felt like it was made of ice as she stared at Festus as he confirmed the ugliness of the truth. "If I never have to hear again about how he made the Games more entertaining than all the years before—and, of course, the sheer amount of money. Though he never mentioned securing a new job for himself."

"Did you and Augustus share motivations?" Hazel's voice tightened despite her effort to keep it soft.

"Hardly," Festus met her gaze again. "I wouldn't share the man's air if I didn't have to."

"So you being our mentor was a coincidence?" Hazel asked.

Festus shrugged, "I've always pulled for District Seven. And if the rumors were true, it was my opportunity to be the mentor of a Victor and to not come in second place again."

"So this was just a do-over?"

His eyes dropped to his tapping foot, "Maybe at first. I tried to stay...detached, like Coral, but..." Festus glanced up at her, and his eyes fell on her hand and its fraying bandage.

Indira cleared her throat, sending a sympathetic look to Festus, "I think you and Silus affected us more than we anticipated."

Hazel's pulse rate picked up at the mention of her brother. A sudden surge of curiosity wrapped in sorrow pressed down on her chest, "Did Silus tell you his plan?"

Festus's stare dropped to his shoes once again, "He didn't have to."

"I think we all knew, in a way, he would've done whatever it took, dear."

Tears stung at Hazel's eyelids, and she warred with them, finally looking to Indira.

"If I had known about any of it, I would've told you," Indira answered the question Hazel hadn't yet asked.

"Figured it wasn't fair to leave her in the dark," Festus said.

Hazel believed them. While it stung in a way that they knew, it made no difference what the outcome would have been. Hazel walked back toward their table, settling into the chair across from them, "And Senator Snow?"

"I'm not sure," Festus mumbled, still not meeting her eyes.

Hazel didn't buy it for a second. "Festus."

Festus leaned back in his chair, resting his hands on his legs, "He's the one who told me after you won, though, to be fair, he tried to warn me in his own way before. But I'm not good at subtlety."

"That's funny because he seems to thrive in it."

"It is unusual that the Senator would become involved in such... activities, especially being a Gamemaker," Indira commented quietly.

"Apparently, he wasn't planning on being one for much longer," Hazel replied. "Though, he told me he wasn't on board initially."

"Well, after the tour of the arena... and the tree." Festus met her eyes.

Hazel slid her thumb hard over her palm, a sudden wave of unease flowing through her veins. It made sense now why he had asked her if she regretted saving him. By doing so, she had unknowingly sealed her fate and Silus's.

"Festus," Hazel's voice dropped as she held his stare, "Surely he told you why?"

"I just told you."

"That isn't the whole answer, and you know it." Hazel shook her head, "He wouldn't risk it all on some District girl and a bet that might ruin his life."

"But you aren't just some District girl, are you?"

Hazel tore her eyes from Festus, crossing her arms around herself. She wasn't at liberty to talk to Festus about how wrong he was.

Festus pulled his own eyes away, his body slumped as he let out a long breath, "Seven, what I can tell you about Corio is that he is ambitious. And like all men of such caliber, they keep their true motives to themselves. Though having known him most of my life, I can tell you that he has a penchant for leaving clues."

Hazel glanced at the bulge at the bottom of her bag. "Hints," She muttered.

"Precisely," Festus agreed, "He probably has already given you the answer. You just have to see it."

Hazel raked a hand through her hair. The answer had to be just within her grasp. But it wasn't clear if she should be seeking it out or trying to escape it.

Indira kept her eyes on her tightly clasped hands as their conversation saturated the very walls.

The darkness of night had almost completely enveloped the District when the televisions around the room began to flash. The harsh change in light caught Hazel's attention as it bathed the room in shades of crimson and gold. A bright red banner shot across all the screens simultaneously with the line "Breaking News" in bold letters.

"Festus, take it off mute," Indira called.

"Huh?" Festus turned, his expression twisting in confusion as he read the screen.

Lucky Flickerman appeared, his usual smile replaced by a more serious expression. His slicked-back hair seemed darker and more severe.

Festus rose from his seat and turned up the volume. The sound burst through the room, and Lucky's flinty voice filled every crevice. Something about it bounced off the walls like the shrill warning of a rapidly approaching train.

"Good evening, citizens. We interrupt your regular programming with breaking news. Just moments ago, it was officially announced: Our honorable President Maximinius Ravinstill will be stepping down from his role as President of Panem."