Hazel swallowed hard, and her heart thumped painfully against her ribs. The ember of anger ignited once again, laced with a sliver of fear at the sight of Senator Snow emerging from the shadows. He slid toward her until the moonlight, and the blinking monitors illuminated his features. His dark gray suit had been replaced with a crisp, pearl-white one. A matching tie with gold embroidery and an undershirt almost made him blend into the whiteness of the room. No longer did traces of weariness color his skin, and the wrinkles in his clothing were gone. The blue of his eyes was darker, matching the deep navy tones of the night. Clutched in his gloved fingers was a single unnaturally colored rose. It shone in an intense metallic tone as if the rose itself had been dipped in gold. A cold sweat slid down her back at how similar the color appeared to the Cornucopia.

Hazel drew the blankets up to her collarbones, tucking her trembling hand beneath the covers. Snow stood watching her for a moment, neither speaking nor moving forward. The last time she had seen him, she was like a rabid animal ready to pounce, glaring at him from the forest floor. Under any other circumstances, she might have been embarrassed, but at this moment, she regretted nothing.

He tilted his head as he observed her reaction. She realized he had asked her a question, and she was just staring at him.

“I brought you something.” He lifted the gold rose into the light. It shimmered strangely.

"You shot me." She murmured, ignoring the bizarre flower.

Snow’s lips turned up into a mildly surprised smile, and his outstretched arm dropped, "Technically, I didn't."

"You ordered it." Hazel countered.

He let out a long sigh, "We sedated you for your safety."

"It seems that is a popular thing to do lately." Hazel adjusted her sore arm; she could still feel the needle’s bite.

"Yet you still asked to speak with me?" He raised an eyebrow, twirling the flower between his fingers.

"I didn't ask for you specifically," Hazel shook her head. She stared at the spinning golden bloom, glittering unnaturally in the moonlight.

Snow smiled wider, "Be grateful it is me here and not Dr. Gaul."

“You mean she isn’t going to bring me flowers?” Hazel’s eyes met his, and she sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm the molten sorrow and anger that boiled within her. "I want to see my brother."

Snow nodded, his eyes shifting to study the rose. "That can be arranged."

"I want to see him now," Hazel demanded, straightening her spine but still gripping the sheets around her.

"So, I have been told," he replied, glancing at her cuffed wrist. "I will escort you to him myself, but you need to be patient. You will see him, but I will advise against any further attempts to push the issue, or the consequences will be much more severe.”

Hazel scoffed and turned away from him, staring out at the blinking lights of the Capitol. What else could they possibly do to me? They’ve already torn open my heart.

His shoes clicked as he took another step. He scrutinized the machines behind her. The monitors and computers hummed softly. His gaze then dropped to the bedside table that held her belongings. A curious look washed over his face.

A few more steps, and he was staring down at the items. Hazel could hear him let out a puff of air through his nose. He reached out and ran a finger over the partial card, tracing over the words: Until we meet again.

"Didn't expect you to take this with you." He smirked down at it. "Or that you would use it to try to burn down my arena, for that matter. But I have found myself surprised quite a lot lately."

Hazel stared at his fingers as they traced the torn edges of the card, “Didn’t think much would surprise a Gamemaker.”

"I’m flattered by your confidence in me.” Snow smiled wider at the card before setting the golden rose down on the table and picking up the necklace. His brow tightened as he ran his gloved thumb over the chipped stone, but he didn’t appear upset; it was like he was almost impressed. "Much like life. Sometimes, the Games can be unpredictable, even to a Gamemaker."

She narrowed her stare. "Not unpredictable enough."

His eyes met hers again for a brief second before he scanned the room. His mouth twitched at the corners as he set down the necklace, pausing to contemplate the coin.

She stared at his gloved hands for a moment longer before continuing, "Do you deny it?"

Snow smirked, a charming façade clearly in place. "What exactly am I being accused of ?"

Hazel leaned toward him. "No more games."

Snow sighed again, "Come now. We've talked about this. Unless you hit your head harder than I thought." He scanned her from head to toe, his attention pausing on her bandaged palm and then her bound one before returning to her eyes.

Hazel recoiled. "Did you send Indira?"

He shook his head as his stare moved to the windows. "No, she came here on her own."

"She said something similar."

"I told you before, Indira is more than a pretty face. You would be wise to listen to her." Snow backed away from the table and meandered toward the large windows.

"Why are you here, Senator? Certainly, it is not to tell me I can’t see my brother and bring me flowers." Hazel gripped the blankets with her injured hand as tight as the bandaging would allow.

"Apparently, a meeting was demanded, and I didn't want them to have to keep sedating you." He continued to stare out the large windows, "Besides, It would be unseemly for our new victor to be drugged when we present you to the Capitol tomorrow."

Hazel choked, "What?"

"There will be a parade, in your honor, of course. So the people of the Capitol can congratulate and celebrate their new victor."

Her green eyes lit with a wave of deep anger, and she shook her head. The familiar warmth sizzled in her soul. "Celebrate? There is nothing worth celebrating."

Snow glanced over his shoulder at her, "I'm afraid that is untrue. You are a victor now. Not only that, you've broken the District Two winning streak and are the first victor from District Seven. Not to mention..." He waved his hand in the air in small circles, turning back to the windows. His voice deepened, "Your whole story. The people have nearly broken down the doors of this hospital, wanting to get a glimpse of you or a picture."

It was a good thing she hadn't eaten because anything in her stomach was likely to come up. Hazel leaned forward, jerking on her bound wrist, "I am no victor…I want nothing to do with it. Any of it." Tears burned behind her eyes, "I just want to go home and...." She bit her lip as it began to quiver; the words still were unreal as they came out of her mouth, "bury and grieve my brother in peace."

Snow hummed and let out a deep sigh. His face softened as he ran a gloved hand through his hair. "I figured you may say something like that. I suppose it is an understandable reaction, considering all you have been through." He turned his body back toward her; his suit glinted in the light of the moon.

Hazel let out a low puff of air as she sat back, her eyes locked onto his in a barely restrained fury. They were going to parade her around and assault her with images of her brother and the games. Sedation suddenly sounded like a promising alternative.

"I understand that you are angry, grieving, not to mention heavily medicated. You can express your hatred to me. But out there," Snow pointed his long finger toward the windows. "You need to be the victor the people are expecting. It is the only way you will be allowed the peace you seek."

Hazel scoffed, pulling the blankets tighter. She dropped her heated gaze to her lap and chewed on the inside of her cheek. The victor the people are expecting. The statement made her even more nauseous.

"Your performance in the Games was impressive." Snow continued as he tucked his hands in his jacket pockets and straightened to his full height. “Many consider you quite heroic, you know.”

"I don't care." Hazel didn’t look up at him.

"It is imperative you do. Or at least pretend you do." Snow strode a step closer. "We both know you are quite skilled at that."

Hazel's stomach lurched.

"I was doing what I was told to save my brother. Not that it did me any good."

"Ahhh,” Snow nodded, taking in the information. “What an excellent job it was." He stared deep into her eyes; the blue in his irises darkened into a deep cobalt as mysterious as the night sky. "The people of Panem have certainly been convinced." He took another step closer, “I almost was myself.”

Hazel could feel her face warm, and she turned away.

Snow cleared his throat, "Either way. I need you to continue."

What? Hazel blanched, looking back at him, “Why?”

He reached into a pocket of his pearl-white jacket and pulled out what looked like a picture. Striding toward her, he reached out his hand for her to take it.

Hazel contemplated his gloved hand for a moment, not wanting to release the blanket shield she had wrapped around her.

Snow stepped closer, slowly placing the picture on her lap before stepping back. Hazel watched him for a second before turning her attention to the rectangular paper in her lap. It was a shiny and somewhat fresh-looking photograph. She recognized it immediately. A copy of it rested in the living room of her log cabin home, framed in sturdy pine. Her family's faces, albeit several years younger, smiled back at her. She fondly remembered the day they had taken it. It was a cozy fall evening, and they had gathered near the fire after dinner. Mom had wanted a family photo.

Hazel released the blanket and caressed the picture as if it were a rare diamond. The paper trembled in her fingers as she held it up. It was a less-than-professional picture. Mom had always hated staged photos. She preferred the candid over the crafted. Her mother was kissing Oren's cheek as he smiled wide, holding the camera out to capture the disgusted but smiling faces of the children. Rowen looked on, unimpressed. Linden and Lily had their eyes covered. Little Sage stared at his siblings in confusion. Her own grinning face stared back at her, eyes filled with joy. A thick arm was around her shoulders. Silus's deep chocolate eyes smiled back through the photo; his young features were jovial as he ruffled Hazel’s wild hair. What I wouldn’t give to go back. Her nose and sinuses burned as she stared at it. Her swollen eyes stung as a new wave of saltine tears irritated her already tender skin.

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"You have a lot to consider." Snow had moved back, studying her reaction.

"How did you get this?" Hazel whispered, still mesmerized by the photo.

"I told you. I make it a point to know information others may deem unimportant. That includes collecting certain....items at times."

Hazel glared up at him, “What? No pictures of Heath? Or do you only threaten people who don’t work for you?”

Snow shook his head in almost disbelief; his eyes lit up at her statement. Hazel didn’t let him answer before seethed out her next question, "So what is this? Some kind of threat to keep me in line?" She slowly raised her eyes to him.

Snow contemplated her as his midnight blue eyes shone at the challenge in her words, "It is a reminder, advice from one victor to another. You may have won, but that doesn't mean you still can't lose."

"How is that not a threat?" Hazel barked out.

"Because believe it or not, Miss Marlowe, I am the closest thing to an ally you have in this city. And there may be consequences outside of my command if you don’t comply. I won't always be able to intervene on your behalf."

Hazel stared at him, studying his features. Confusion flowed through her. He appeared genuine, but then again, he was incredibly skilled at crafting sincere appearances. She turned her attention down to the picture and skimmed her finger across the glossy surface. There was a nugget of truth in his advice. Between looking at the smiling faces of her family and the overwhelming notion of continuing to play pretend while her soul was shattered, she felt a new wave of sadness overtake her. Fresh tears wormed down her cheeks. She wasn't sure at what point she would just run out of tears to cry.

Hazel jumped as a soft cloth brushed her cheek. She pulled back instinctually, eyes wide. Snow's expression was softer now, and he was leaning toward her, hand outstretched. His embroidered handkerchief between his fingers caught her eye. She stared at the familiar gold detailing.

He cleared his throat as he drew his arm away and tucked the cloth in his pocket. Memories of the interview night swirled in her mind. She had so many questions, but at the same time, she wasn't sure she wanted the answers.

"Dr. Gaul will be here soon."

Hazel frowned and scoffed again. "I thought you said I was lucky it was you and not her."

He smirked slightly. "I guess I should have clarified that you were lucky I got here first. It would be wise for you to keep the theatrics to a dull roar."

Hazel's head spun at that, and she inadvertently jerked on her shackled hand. The metal clattered loudly between them.

Snow tilted his head, looking at the handcuff before returning to her face. "If you can promise to control yourself, I will get them to remove it."

Hazel stared at him with suspicion and confusion but didn’t answer.

Snow shook his head at her reaction. "It would be best if she didn't see this"—he gestured to the cuff—"or know about your episode earlier."

Hazel chewed on her cheek but continued to say nothing.

Snow let out a long breath and moved closer to the bed until his legs brushed the blankets. He leaned over her once again, his eyes searching hers. Hazel sucked in a breath and clasped the picture closer.

"You don't seem convinced."

Hazel raised her chin. "Can you blame me?"

He leaned a hair closer. "You may see me as a monster, a murderer even. And I would disagree, but maybe from your perspective, that is true in some sense. Someday, you will learn that people aren’t so black and white. We are not so different. We all have blood on our hands. Me, you, and even your beloved Silus.” Snow paused, letting his words sink in. She narrowed her eyes as he continued. “A considerable amount is going on outside this room that you are unaware of. One day, I may be able to tell you. But for now, I can assure you, there is much worse than me out there, and it would be in your best interest and the best interest of your family to trust me."

Hazel held her breath as she studied him. He leaned closer, searching her irises, his breath weaving through her hair.

Hazel wasn't sure about trusting anyone in the Capitol, especially Snow. She ran a finger over the glossy photo. What other choice do I have? If she pushed back too much, she would incur the wrath of the Capitol, putting her family in even greater danger. She needed to protect them, no matter the cost. But what does he get out of me complying? The question gnawed at her, but she knew she had to play along for now.

After a few beats, Hazel replied, "Alright."

A satisfied expression filled his eyes as he leaned back and strode to the door, knocking twice. It unlocked, and a Peacekeeper leaned in briefly before returning to the bedside with a key. As the door slid shut, Snow waved a hand at Hazel, prompting her to shift her legs. He sat on the bed while Hazel pulled the blankets closer. With a soft smile, he grasped her bound wrist, turning it over to trace the red line etched into her skin with his gloved thumb. Hazel watched intently as he carefully unlocked the cuff and removed it, tucking it into his jacket pocket. She cradled her freed arm to her chest, staring at Snow.

He looked up at her face once again, studying her without speaking.

"Why are you doing all of this, really?" Hazel whispered.

Snow's smile faded, and his eyes grew serious. "Would you believe me if I told you that despite what you might think, I am not always pretending?"

Hazel’s heartbeat raced, "I didn't hit my head that hard, Senator."

A deep yet soft laugh filtered from Snow's lips, and his eyes crinkled at the edges, yet a hint of disappointment flickered over his features.

Snow smirked at the landscape through the windows, "It is a conversation we will have someday, and you will come to understand in time. But today is not that day. For now, follow my lead." He reached over to the bedside table, picked up the rose, and held it out to her. “Help me, and I will help you.”

She looked from his eyes to the rose and then back. He didn’t move but waited for her to meet him halfway. What she might be helping him with set her nerves on fire. But if continuing the charade meant her family was protected….

With a shaky breath, she curled her fingers around the gold rose’s thornless stem. It was cool and waxy against her skin. She attempted to pull it to herself, but he did not loosen his grip. He held it solidly, a leather-clad finger brushed against hers. She held her breath as he studied her reaction. For a moment, she didn’t think he was going to release it. Just as she was about to question him, he let go with a smile.

“Wise choice.” He murmured.

Hazel spun the stem in her hand, “You told me before that a rose’s color is symbolic.”

Snow smiled wider, “Yes.”

“And gold?”

He gazed down at the metallic rose, “Victory.”

She suddenly had the urge to crush the flower as she coughed, “I told you the night of the last supper. There would never be victory for me.”

Snow’s voice grew quieter as he stared down at her hands, “But there is for some of us.”

Hazel’s stomach twisted as a sudden knock on the door startled both of them.

"Dr. Gaul has arrived and is requesting a meeting with the victor," the female Peacekeeper announced.

Snow replied without turning, "Go ahead and send her in."

The Peacekeeper paused, shifting on her feet. "She is requesting a private audience, Sir."

Snow nodded and dismissed her. After the Peacekeeper had left the room, Snow turned back to Hazel, a severe look in his eye. "Remember what I told you."

Hazel felt a flash of fear jolt through her bones. As unnerving as it was being alone with Snow, the thought of being alone with Dr. Gaul downright terrified her.

She nodded as he rose from the bed. "Good luck, Miss Marlowe." His shoes clicked as he strode away.

Just as Snow reached the door, it swung open, and Dr. Gaul marched in. Even in the darkness, her curls were shiny, and her teeth were so white they appeared polished. She wore a blood-red smock with matching shoes, golden thread trailing over the fabric in elaborate detail.

Snow paused to let her make her entrance. She marched past him without a second glance.

"Senator," Dr. Gaul commented coolly.

Snow bowed forward. "Doctor."

Snow met Hazel's eyes again; an unspoken warning was clear. Hazel furrowed her brow, watching the two of them. She clutched the rose and the photo closer to her chest.

"You are dismissed, Senator," Dr. Gaul commented without looking at him.

Snow nodded, sending one last sobering look at Hazel before disappearing through the door, which clicked locked behind him.

Hazel shifted in the bed, her heart pounding so hard she swore it was vibrating her entire body. Another wave of cold sweat formed along her neck.

"Congratulations on your victory, Miss Marlowe." Dr. Gaul smiled widely as she looked around the room.

Hazel swallowed down a retort, "Thank you, Dr. Gaul."

"I have to say I am very pleased. Your performance, among other things, has made my games this year extremely well-watched. Even in the districts, we had an all-time viewership record.” Her words spoke of her satisfaction, but something dark and ominous tinged her tone. “Of course, a new arena helped, but it had everything you could ask for: danger, mystery, tragedy….” Dr. Gaul paused, tilting her head to the side, “… romance."

Hazel's stomach soured, and heat filled her cheeks. She dug her nails into the waxen stem.

Dr. Gaul’s stare turned piercing, and she folded her hands behind her back, squaring her shoulders. She wasn’t a large woman, but that did not mean she was any less frightening. "I don't think I could have made it as engaging myself if I planned it out this way. Although I would have preferred you didn’t damage one of my pets.”

Hazel’s eyes dropped to the rose in her hand. The scream of the falcon haunted her mind.

Dr. Gaul continued, “And for it all to end with your brother sacrificing himself for you…" Dr. Gaul smiled wickedly. “It was truly a… spectacle.”

Hazel's chest heaved, and she desperately fought to keep her emotions reigned in. She dug her fingernails further into the skin of the stem, and trickles of green fluid coated her fingers. A painful burning in her chest grew nearly unbearable.

"And then, of course, there is Senator Snow."

Hazel breathed in deeply, fighting to keep her face neutral.

"Some really believe a special connection exists between you two. And you haven’t exactly discouraged the rumors. What do you think, Miss Marlowe?" Dr. Gaul’s piercing gaze dropped to the gilded bloom in Hazel’s grasp.

Hazel squirmed, running a thumb over the gleaming petals, "I'm not sure how to define it; I guess 'special connection' is appropriate." Hazel chose her words slowly.

"Hmmm, interesting. Men are so typical.” Gaul lazily glanced out the large windows. "And to think he told me you are merely a means to an end."

Hazel's face warmed, and her brow flicked upward as Gaul smirked at her reaction.

Hazel coughed. "I apologize. I'm not sure what you mean."

Gaul hummed, rubbing a hand along her chin as she turned her attention to the view of the Capitol through the windows. "What do you think it means, Miss Marlowe?"

Hazel shook her head. "I wouldn't dare to pretend that I could predict or fully understand Senator Snow's motives. From the little time we have spent together, he keeps such things to himself."

Gaul laughed. "Quite right. Sounds like we are in the dark together."

"Apparently."

Gaul's predatory gaze returned. "It really is a shame you are district. You would have made a promising pupil."

The word 'district ' came from her mouth like a curse. She spat it out as if the very word disgusted her.

"Smart, inquisitive, creative... cunning." Gaul stalked closer. "All my best students are."

"And the Senator?"

Gaul's smile widened, and her eyes took on a faraway look, "Oh yes, more than most."

Without warning, Dr. Gaul sank down next to Hazel's legs on the bed. Hazel held back a shiver and moved her injured leg out of the way. Gaul's voice dropped as if she were sharing a secret: "You know, you aren't supposed to have favorites. But what no one ever tells you is that you always do. Anybody who says differently is lying."

Hazel nodded, biting her lip as Dr. Gaul strummed her fingers over her casted ankle.

"He's been my most prized pupil for many years. We have worked tirelessly, building the new arena and moving the Hunger Games and all of Panem forward. I was hoping for him to take my place as Head Gamemaker someday. Now, I am not sure that our visions of the future are aligned. All these years, we have not disagreed. Not seriously, anyway." Hazel feared Gaul would see her jugular beating in her neck. Gaul's stare paused on the pulsating artery, "Until now."

Hazel felt a lump forming in her trachea. She tilted her head in confusion.

Gaul leaned forward and placed her arm on the other side of Hazel's legs, effectively caging her. "Until you. Why do you think that is?"

Hazel shook her head rapidly. "I haven't the slightest idea."

Gaul stared deep into her eyes. "No?"

Hazel continued to shake her head, "I promise, Doctor."

Dr. Gaul hummed, "I would have thought you learned your lesson about promises."

Hazel's heart skipped a beat. Ethan. Silus. Ruby. She bit her lip harder. Snow's warning about monsters echoed through her. She is trying to bait me. "I understand. But I assure you I don't know anything about Snow's plans or any disagreements between you or their possible cause."

"Hmmm," Gaul leaned in, her teeth glinting in the light of the monitors. Her breath spread over Hazel's face. The smell of sour milk and yeast filled her nostrils. Hazel tried to keep her expression neutral as her muscles tensed. She realized, as her lungs began to burn, that she was holding her breath. Hazel almost felt like there should be a pane of laboratory glass between them. The monsters in the arena paled in comparison to their creator.

Dr. Gaul seemed satisfied with whatever she had seen on Hazel’s face. With a deep hmm, she leaned back. "Time will tell, Miss Marlowe… Time will tell. It always does."

Hazel exhaled sharply, nearly coughing from the lack of oxygen.

Dr. Gaul rose to her feet and stalked to the other side of Hazel's bed. She scanned the items on the table next to Hazel, her eyes pausing on the ripped-up card. A dark smile graced her features, "I hope it was worth it."

"What?" Hazel questioned.

Dr. Gaul strode to the door, her gracefully gloved red hand closing around the handle. She paused before pulling it open, looking back at Hazel. "Good night, Miss Marlowe. Congratulations on your victory. I look forward to seeing you at the parade tomorrow."

She disappeared without another word. The door clicked loudly as the lock snapped into place. Hazel covered her face with her hands and shook. The warm tears that had built behind her eyes rushed forward, unstoppable. A feeling had been building since she awoke in the hospital. She sucked in a shaky breath as the truth solidified. Snow had been right; she had only traded one arena for another.