The scent of walnut, pine, and diesel filled Hazel’s lungs as District Seven air flooded into the train car. Outside, waiting on the platform, was the most beautiful thing she had seen in ages: her family. Their collective gaze was glued to her, and tears immediately burned within Hazel’s vision at the mere sight of their faces. Both Fern and Oren wore matching dark circles under their eyes. Fern had a hand over her mouth, tears streaming down her face. The children surrounded her skirt, peering wide-eyed as Hazel hobbled into the station. She stumbled forward, the clunking sound of her cast vibrating loudly against the wood-paneled floor. Her left calf swelled and pulsated, but she refused to let it slow her.
The crutch's rubber foot squeaked as it caught on the less-than-smooth surface of the flooring. Hazel tossed them away, letting them fall out of her grasp. They clattered to the ground as Fern closed the distance. Before Hazel could utter a word, Fern had her wrapped in a tight embrace. She cradled Hazel's head, peppering her hair with soft but rapid kisses. Hazel shuddered as she buried her nose in Fern’s shoulder. Her lungs filled with the scents of pine needles, vanilla, and a hint of apple. Her thoughts flashed back to the dream she had in the arena. No dream could compare to this.
“It’s really you,” Hazel murmured.
“Oh, darling, it’s me. I’m right here.” her mother’s voice broke as she ran her hand over Hazel’s hair. Petting her like she was a little girl afraid of a thunderstorm.
Hazel’s vision blurred with tears as she clung to her mother, holding on as if she could anchor herself against the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. The sensation of her mother’s tears dripping onto her skin chilled Hazel to the bone, but the warmth of her arms soothed her soul.
“Oh, my baby, you’re home. You’re home.” Fern whispered.
Hazel was incapable of forming words; a mangled sound escaped her, yet Fern seemed to understand fully. “I know, I know.”
Suddenly, another pair of trembling arms wrapped around Hazel's back. A warm body snuggled up to her side. This was soon followed by another, with the twins softly speaking incoherent words. Then, smaller arms encircled her waist. Sage murmured from behind her. If it was humanly possible, she could have dissolved into a puddle at the sound. A large, firm hand gently patted her head, and Oren's resonant voice enveloped her. "Welcome home."
Hazel shuddered as she buried her face further into her mother’s blue dress, soaking in her family’s collective embrace. Her three siblings clung to her, their tears dampening her elaborate Victor's clothing. The quivering of their bodies resonated with her own. As they held each other, their pain was hers, and hers was theirs. She exhaled, letting the warmth of her family's affection permeate her being. I would gladly drown in their tears as long as we are all together.
The peacekeepers navigated around the group with discretion, murmuring among themselves and casting the occasional side glance in their direction. Sable rocked on his feet while Bellona brushed off an errant tear. Leo maintained his downward stare, hands clasped, seemingly granting them a moment of mourning within the scant privacy they were allowed.
Before long, the intensity of her family's embrace became overwhelming. The pain from her injuries flared under the pressure, and her lungs clamored for breath. An involuntary groan escaped her as she accidentally shifted too much weight onto her cast-bound foot.
“Ok, everyone, let her breathe,” a voice cut through the soft sounds of crying.
Her family slowly untangled themselves from her, which brought both relief and a small sense of loss. Once they were separated, she turned to her three youngest siblings, stroking the twins' heads as they stepped back.
She leaned toward Lily first, "Missed you, little sis," Hazel uttered, tucking a stray curl behind Lily's ear. “How’s my favorite sister?”
Lily embraced Hazel once more, “Missed you too,” her voice was unsteady. “I want it to be over,'” her small hands clutching Hazel’s shirt.
Hazel placed a soft kiss on the young girl's hair; she smelled just like she always did, like daisies and dandelions, “Me too.”
As she pulled away from Lily, Hazel faced Linden. A rosy hue colored his cheeks. He must have been spending time outside with Lily instead of drawing. Mom usually had to beg him to go outside to get fresh air. Despite the color in his face, his features were defined, sharper than she remembered. He suddenly looked closer to fifteen than eleven. Hazel cleared her throat, "The nights have been too quiet without my roommates." Linden offered a melancholy smile, rubbing his face with his shoulder. Hazel's gaze fell on her forsaken crutches. "I might have a project only you can help me with."
Linden followed her stare to the golden crutches and grimaced, “Ugh, what are those?”
Hazel almost laughed, “Exactly.”
Finally, she shifted her attention to Sage. But her breath caught, and her limbs froze. Sage didn’t look like Sage. Gone were the curls and the eyes that looked so much like Oren’s. Instead, hazel irises surrounded by coffee-colored locks stared back at her. No. She sucked in a sharp breath and squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head. Clenching her jaw, she tried to force the edges of her reality to stop blurring. Get it together, Hazel.
“You came back.” Sage’s sweet voice broke through the fog of her mind, pulling her back to the present moment. She reopened her eyes, and her little brother’s innocent yet somber gaze met hers. His eyelids were swollen, but a flicker of relief filled his features.
“I did, bug.” She bent and pressed a light kiss to Sage's cheek. “I did.”
“Were you good?” Hazel questioned, attempting to sound as normal as possible despite the spike in her heart rate.
“No,” Linden murmured under his breath.
“Yes,” Sage argued back, casting a narrowed look at Linden.
A soft laugh escaped her. Hazel missed the arguments, petty fights, and mundane life. It was like breathing crisp spring air. A smile tugged on her lips, and her little brothers stared at her with peculiar expressions. She winked at them, “Well then, you will have to fill me in on everything that has happened.”
Sage readily agreed while Linden rolled his eyes.
She steadied herself as she straightened, wiping away her tears with her graceful sleeves. Rowan stood apart from the rest. Of all her siblings, he broke her heart the most. His young life had been less than fair. His unruly curls were pulled back. His face was tight, but his eyes shone with unshed tears. They were rimmed with puffy pink skin, most likely from more than a few hours of crying. Hazel suddenly felt like she had been absent for years. “Hey, Row.”
His eyes met hers, and his face fell like he could no longer hold himself back. He rushed forward, chewing on an unsteady lip as he pulled her into him. The way his body was shaking made her heart ache. It was as if his emotions were coursing through him so violently it shook his very bones. She held him tightly, offering him all the comfort and solace she could. As she laid her cheek against his shoulder, a surge of guilt welled up inside her. "I'm sorry I couldn't... I didn't..."
Rowan squeezed her tighter. “Shhh, I know, Haze.”
His voice had grown deeper since she had gone. Hazel wanted to sob at how much he sounded like Silus. The similarities were sharper than any of the blades she had recently encountered. “He should be here, Row. He should’ve been the one.”
Rowan pulled back but held her at arm's length. “He wouldn’t have allowed it. He told me before you left…” He frowned, shaking his head as he fought back tears. “We all know you couldn’t save him.”
Hazel studied the floor, her voice fading until it was nearly non-existent. “I could have.” I had a plan, but I failed.
"Silus was stubborn," Rowan's voice broke as he uttered his brother's name. "More stubborn than anyone..."
Fern approached them, nodding at Rowan’s words, “There was nothing you could have done to change that.” She gripped Hazel’s other shoulder and ran a hand under her daughter's chin to lift her face. If only you knew.
Fern’s features tightened as if she was uncomfortable with what she was about to say next. “We saw all you did inside the arena …and outside of it….. We saw your interviews….. We know you did all you could do.”
Hazel's stomach flipped as warmth crept up her cheeks. She knew her family was probably aware of everything that had happened in the Capitol. But having it acknowledged out loud by her mother, of all people, made her want to bury herself in her bed and hide from the light of day. Perhaps for the coming year, if only they would permit it.
Unable to help herself, she cast a hesitant glance around at her family. Oren's gaze was averted. Rowan's expression had grown stern, his eyes alight with worry. Linden looked repulsed while Lily cocked her head inquisitively, and Sage appeared wholly oblivious to what their mother was talking about. She imagined them watching her interviews and interacting with Snow from their living room. It would have been less embarrassing to have been killed in the arena.
The peacekeepers appeared to be attempting to blend into the scenery. Leo’s eyes flashed to hers for a second before he seemed to take a keen interest in studying the train.
“About that..." Hazel choked out, unable to meet her mother’s eyes. “We have a lot to discuss. Can we not do it right now?”
Fern nodded, “Of course.” She rested her palm on Hazel’s cheek, “Whenever you are ready, darling.”
Leo halted his examination of the train's windows and moved closer to Hazel, crutches in hand. "I must insist," his voice was firm but gentle, and his expression grave as he looked from her to her family's shattered expressions. She took the crutches from him, tucking them back under her arms.
"Miss Marlowe, are you and your family ready?" Sable inquired, scratching at the thick callouses on his palms.
"Ready for what?" Rowan muttered, a darker shade crept into his eyes as he regarded the peacekeepers.
Sable cleared his throat, struggling to find the right words. 'For us to bring out the—,' he hesitated, voice catching.
"Yes, bring him out," Oren commanded, lifting his eyes as well as his voice. "I want to see my son."
A hush fell over everyone at Oren's words. Sable nodded and gestured for Bellona and Leo to join the other peacekeepers.
Hazel dabbed at her eyes, yet they stung with a flood of fresh grief like an overflowing sink with the faucet left wide open. Additional Peacekeepers streamed into the train behind her, and her heart skipped a beat when they carried out Silus's casket. Her family inhaled a collective breath. Oren shut his eyes and trembled, passing a hand over his worn features.
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The Peacekeepers moved slowly until they were clear of the train and gently laid the coffin before the family. For a brief moment, everyone was motionless, the atmosphere heavy and suffocating. Witnessing her family confront the reality that Silus was really gone was a fresh kind of torture. Hazel bit down on a sob as a new wave of tears threatened her fragile composure. Everyone knew the game's outcome. But it didn't change the fact that the casket made everything blindingly real. Hazel understood that at this moment, each of them grappled with the reality that nothing would ever be the same again.
Oren attempted to conceal a shiver as he approached the casket first. Fern clutched her mouth while the children clustered around her. Leaning over his son's casket, Oren caressed the inscription. His frame quivered, and tears dropped silently onto the wood's surface.
Rowan tensed, his breath quickening, and Hazel stepped closer, intertwining her fingers with his. His hand quaked in her grasp.
Oren stood solemnly by the casket for several minutes until Fern approached him. He seemed to be struggling to contain his emotions, and it was evident that he was not succeeding. She gently pressed a hand to his back and whispered in his ear. His sobs finally broke through as he hunched over the coffin of his oldest son. Fern rubbed a gentle palm over his neck and back as he wept.
The rest of the children looked on in surprise, never having seen their father in such a state. Hazel ran her fingers through Lily's hair as glossy tears welled up in her sister’s eyes.
After a few more minutes of Oren's wrenching sobs, he straightened up and brushed a sleeve across his face. He turned to hug his wife, who murmured comforting words to him in a whisper too faint for the others to catch.
Oren finally detached himself from Fern and turned to Sable. "Open this lid. I need to see my son."
Sable hesitated, his expression laden with understanding. "Sir..."
Oren's face hardened as he glowered at Sable, his eyes bleary yet fierce.
Leo stepped between them and nodded. "Certainly, Sir." He unfastened the heavy lid and swung it open.
Oren took in a sharp breath as Silus was revealed, his face serene as it had been in the grand Capitol train station. He was still clutching the glittering golden rose. Oren extended his hand, cupping Silus's face as though he were a small boy. His trembling shook the casket as silent tears streamed down his cheeks. Bending forward, he placed a kiss on Silus's forehead.
Rowan's attention was fixed forward as he observed his father, his jaw muscles flexing in a rhythmic motion.
Linden and Lily edged nearer to Hazel, with Sage lagging. Watery eyes and confused expressions colored their faces.
"Come on," Hazel whispered to the children and Rowan, "let's go see him."
They trailed behind her as she neared the casket. Soon, her family encircled the coffin, staring down at Silus’s peaceful face. Rowan's hold on Hazel's hand grew firmer as he looked at their brother's body. His frame was wracked with tremors, leaving Hazel feeling powerless to protect the ones she loved most. Again. Vulnerability was a sensation she was becoming much too familiar with.
Linden and Lily stood together, holding hands, their eyes glistening with tears. Sage stood on tiptoe for a better view, peering down at Silus with wide, tearful eyes. "He looks like he's napping, Momma."
Fern stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on his back. "He does, doesn't he?" she agreed, brushing away her tears. She moved closer still, laying her hand on Silus' folded ones, stroking them as she had when he was a child.
Fern trembled as she looked at Silus, the boy she'd raised as her own. "He's in the forever forest now, my love."
Hazel tried to imagine him lounging in an ethereal forest that was pristine, untouched by disease or death. Perhaps he was truly there. Maybe Dahlia was with him. She exhaled a sigh; perhaps Cedar was there too.
Rowan emitted a soft noise that jolted a haunting memory to the forefront of Hazel’s attention. Visions of blood-stained hands and Silus's lifeless face, drenched in rain, flickered in her mind. She inhaled a sharp breath as her heartbeat accelerated. The world seemed to tilt, and she shut her eyes, attempting to stabilize her breathing. Her body told her she was in danger while her mind tried to reason with her. I’m safe. I’m home. She squeezed Rowan’s hand. My family is here.
Opening her eyes, she scanned her family, but no one seemed aware of the panic swelling within her. She took several deeper breaths, following Ethan's lessons, and soon, her heartbeat started to slow. But a sense of dread soured her stomach that was not so easy to shake.
Suddenly, the clamor of the train station doors and the thudding boots of additional peacekeepers filled the air, drawing her attention. Voices amplified through the building. The noise was then followed by the thud of more peacekeepers herding into the space. They were escorting someone. A weak breath escaped her as Rowan caught the change; his scrutiny shifted to the newcomer, and his tearful eyes steeled.
"I'll be right back," Hazel whispered, letting go of Rowan's hand.
"Haze..." Rowan uttered but made no move to follow her.
She hobbled forward to meet the man walking towards her.
His red hair was neatly combed, and he appeared more sober than she'd ever seen him. Gone were his tattered, ethanol-coated clothes, now replaced by a modest gray suit. Her heart was torn, caught between anger and love.
"Hazelbug?" he called out as he neared. His eyes skidded over her family before settling back on her.
Hazel stepped forward, her jaw clenched; tears streamed down her face, "Dad?"
Despite her reservations, the little girl inside yearned for her father's embrace. He broke away from his escort and strode forward until he enveloped her in his arms. Hazel leaned into him, inhaling the unusual scent of soap rather than stale whiskey.
"Good job, my girl," he whispered, holding her close. She was uncertain how to react. Being in her father's arms was comforting, yet the possibility of his betrayal coursed through her like venom.
Eventually, he let her go but continued to hold her in his arms. His eyes dropped to the medal around her neck. He reached out, tracing his finger over it. His touch skimmed the bulk of the pendant under her shirt, and he murmured, "I told you that necklace was lucky."
Heath's focus moved from her to her siblings, then to Oren and Fern, and finally to Silus's casket. A flicker of something— dark satisfaction—crossed his face. The soothing warmth of his embrace chilled to ice in her veins. Hazel’s stomach twisted, bile rising in her throat. Her eyes narrowed, but it did little to hide the wave of nausea that threatened to consume her.
She stiffened, taking a deliberate step backward as if trying to distance herself from the truth she dreaded. “We have a lot to talk about.”
“What about?” Heath feigned confusion, still looking around the station in a much too casual fashion.
Hazel stared at him, her tone hardening, “Dad…”
He redirected his focus to her. “Maybe after the funeral?”
Something about his tone reminded her of Snow. Her fury rose, fierce and searing. Palms sweating, she clutched her crutches, "No, I’m tired of being left in the dark while others gamble and play games with my life and the lives of those I love." As her voice amplified, Heath's eyes widened. "I want the truth."
“Well, look at you. Grew a backbone in the Capitol, did we? Is this about that brat from ten?”
"His name was Aaron," Hazel's voice turned icy, sounding severe even to herself.
"Yes, of course, it was.” Heath shifted on his feet, looking over his shoulder. “Okay, then, why don’t we go somewhere to talk?”
“I’m staying right here,” she bit out. “With my family.”
Heath met her eyes, his anger apparent. "I am your family."
"Are you?" She brushed at her face. “Tell me you didn’t lead me and my brother to the slaughter.”
Heath’s eyes flashed, but he said nothing. He pursed his lips, and his green eyes grew hard as stone.
“Tell me,” Hazel demanded.
“There is much you don’t understand, Hazel.
“So, I’ve been told. Many times recently.” She felt her stomach drop like she swallowed a rock. She backed away, whispering, “You did. Didn’t you?”
Heath scoffed, eyes falling to Oren once again, “So, I’m the bad guy, huh?” He scowled. “I did you give dear old stepdad such a warm welcome? You really think he’s blameless?”
Oren glared, but his eyes seemed to team with guilt. He took a step forward but was pulled back by Fern, whose sharp whispers pierced the room. Fern placed a hand on Oren’s chest as she turned to Heath. “Heath Marlowe, haven’t you done enough?”
Heath seethed, “I see how it is.”
“Answer me, Dad,” Hazel insisted, bringing his attention back to her. The word 'Dad' felt like a betrayal on her lips, but she forced it out. She needed answers, and she wasn’t going to let him slip away.
"That’s the thanks I get for saving your life?" he stepped closer and pointed at her chest. "Without that necklace, the boy from Eight would have killed you."
Hazel’s voice dropped, “You want me to thank you for saving my life after it was you who put me in danger in the first place?”
“I see, so I am the villain in your story, am I? Some kind of evil mastermind? Don’t be daft, Hazel,”
Hazel’s eyes blazed at the comment but tried to push past his attempts to bait her, “You did, didn’t you?”
"Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t." he pointed a finger at her chest, "After everything I've witnessed since the Reaping..." Heath's tone softened a fraction as his eyes probed hers. "I've realized we're more alike than you're willing to admit. We all play our parts. And you played your part perfectly, didn’t you? "
She understood his insinuation, and a queasy sensation flooded her: “Snow has never employed me."
"He didn’t have to, did he?" Heath’s eyes locked onto hers. She tore her eyes away as he shook his head. "We all have our price, my girl. And I don't fault you for doing what was necessary to survive. Would've done the same myself. But don’t stand here and pretend you are any better than me. In the end, we all make sacrifices, don't we?"
Hazel's entire body trembled, and the room practically crackled in her anger. "And what exactly were the sacrifices you agreed to make?"
Heath let out an incredulous sound as he scanned the children behind her and then Fern. His eyes softened for a second before they grew like molten jade when they landed on Oren. “I told you he would get what was coming to him.”
"At any cost?" Hazel’s blood boiled at the near admission. “Are you really that heartless? You’re so hell-bent on revenge that you threw my brother and me to the wolves?
“Ahh, that is where we are different. Because I’m the one who truly lost a brother.” Heath’s face twisted, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper as he stepped closer, jabbing a finger at Silus’s casket. “That boy was not your brother.”
Hazel recoiled as the anger she had been struggling to keep at bay broke free, roaring to life within her. It surged through her veins like wildfire, scorching away the last remnants of restraint. She could feel her pulse hammering in her ears, "He is my brother." She fixed him with a fiery jade stare. "He has been more of a brother to me than you have ever been a father." Heath stared daggers at her as her words hung in the air, just as the footsteps of Leo and Rowan drew near. Everything had changed, yet nothing had changed when it came to her father.
Heath’s chest heaved as he watched her retreat from him. Rowan glared at Heath with a look so sharp it could cut glass.
Hazel’s voice was low, almost a growl, as she turned to Leo, “Private Drayton, I want my father removed from the building.” She angrily wiped at the tears pricking her eyes from pure betrayal.
Leo studied her face briefly before fixing a stern gaze on Heath. "Understood, ma'am," he acknowledged, signaling to the peacekeepers on standby. Hazel didn’t look back as the peacekeepers approached her father.
Heath’s breath came in harsh bursts as he spat a few choice words under his breath, but he didn’t resist as the Peacekeepers escorted him out.
As the door shut behind him, Hazel released a shuddering breath and opened her eyes. Her family looked on in silent shock while her other two guards maintained their stoic facades.
Fern rested her hand on Hazel’s shoulder, whispering, “I’m so sorry about your father.” Fern stared at the closed doors of the station, “He is a very damaged man.”
Rowan let out a scoff, “You mean murderer, mom.”
“I want to go home,” Hazel murmured, closing her eyes again. Hazel’s heart burned, and she willed herself not to cry over her father. She tried to push his vicious words from her mind, but they clung to her like sap. She was sure she would be repeating them for the next several hours.
Leo approached Hazel, clearing his throat. He glanced at Oren and Fern. "Mr. and Mrs. Starling, we are moving Silus to the mayor's manor. A memorial has been set up for him there."
For several years, it had been customary to allow the public to pay their respects, with the casket displayed in the mayor's residence for a day or two after returning from the games. Hazel shivered, recalling the wildflowers she laid at Willow's casket the previous year. Oren nodded at Leo, expressing his consent. Leo gestured to the peacekeepers, who sealed the casket and carried it towards the front doors.
Hazel’s mind whirled as she watched. A sense of dread settled in her stomach; the thought of the entire district seeing Silus like this made her feel like she was back in the arena or, hell, even the Capitol.
Rowan returned his gaze to his father before addressing Hazel. "We have a new home now, Haze."
Hazel's brow creased, her nerves still raw from her encounter with Heath.
Fern cleared her throat. "After the games, they relocated us to... the village."
Victor's Village? Hazel had almost forgotten the refined yet vacant neighborhood perched on the town's outskirts, nestled in the foothills. The village boasted panoramic views of the valley, the river, the mountains, and the evergreen expanse. She had often wondered what the homes looked like on the inside, yet access beyond the gates was forbidden to the district's residents.
Then, Hazel noticed something peculiar about her family's attire that she should have recognized earlier. Realization washed over her—how could she have missed it? Their clothes were new, the fabrics finer than anything they’d ever owned. Each sported a new pair of leather shoes.
"Before we go home..." Oren began, his sorrowful gaze trailing the casket of his son before returning to Hazel, "They wish to meet with you."
Hazel felt a pang of dread. "Who?"
Rowan motioned towards the doors, which creaked open to reveal the blinding sunlight outside. The murmur of voices from the gathered crowd grew louder, like a distant storm. It was as if the entire District Seven was assembled.
"Everyone," he murmured.