"What do you want?" Hazel kept her voice as flat as possible, masking the unease bubbling within her.

"Ok, no small talk." Caleb's smile widened as he straightened to his full height, "You've had quite the eventful day, haven't you?"

"You could say that.” Her gaze darted around the empty kitchen, searching for an escape route or any sign of assistance, but they were alone.

He leaned in, his taller frame casting a shadow over her. "I heard a little rumor that not only did the Capitol love your little rescue of Senator Snow, but he also gave you a personal ride home.”

"And your point?" she tilted her head back, taking a subtle step backward.

Caleb's proximity was suffocating, his height towering over her as he closed in. "I'm curious; what did he give you?" he probed as his dark eyes searched hers.

"Excuse me?" Hazel raised her eyebrows and took another step back. His frame was even more imposing under the kitchen lights and this close.

"You disappear for hours. You get dropped off here by Senator Snow himself, and now you are walking around the place with what sounds like a bottle of pills in your pocket. Now you are down here getting some water and food. I'm guessing you should wash whatever it is down with."

Hazel's heart pounded in her chest. She hadn't noticed the sound of the pills. She tried to keep her composure, even as fear knotted in her stomach.

Caleb's breath brushed her face, "So, what did he give you?" His eyes raked from her head to her feet and back to her eyes, "Or maybe you gave him something? A little favor for some extra sponsor funding?"

Repulsed, Hazel attempted to move past him, but he grabbed her injured arm. She grunted as a hot wave of pain shot down her left side. In one swift motion, he pushed her back against the fridge, muffling her cry with his hand. The fridge handles dug into her spine and aggravated her injuries.

Pain seared through Hazel's arm, the sensation so intense she feared the wounds had reopened. She sucked in a sharp inhale, trying to steady herself. Caleb's grip was firm, his other hand fishing the pill bottle out of her pocket with a triumphant smirk. She tried to push back against him, but her one-armed efforts weren't making much progress.

Holding the pill bottle aloft, he peered inside. "Wow, Snow really does like you, doesn't he?" As he emptied most of the pills into his hand, "Can't say I blame the guy," he added with a wink, pocketing the pills.

Leaving only a few in the bottle, he closed the gap between them once again. Hazel was trapped, her back against the cold surface of the fridge, unable to retreat any further. Caleb's hand stretched towards her with deliberate slowness, placing the pill bottle back into her pocket, his gaze locked onto hers in a silent challenge. "I'm not a total asshole, you know. Figured I leave you a couple."

"How generous," she spat out, shoving him away with all the strength she could muster. "You know, I'm looking forward to you dying."

Caleb didn't resist her push. "Aww, you're breaking my heart." He straightened up, still smiling. He let her push past him and toward the kitchen's entrance. "Sweet dreams, Red," he mocked as Hazel gathered her items and made her escape.

She dashed past the group of tributes huddled near the fireplace, their quiet conversations fading into the background as she ascended the stairs. Reaching her room, she shut the door behind her with a hard click.

The bathroom door was ajar, allowing thin wisps of steam to escape into the room. The sound of running water filled the small space. Her arm and neck throbbed.

'I am such an idiot'. Her hand trembled as she unscrewed the cap of the water bottle, taking small bites of the apple and bread. She managed to swallow down one of the lavender pills with a large gulp of water. Setting the remaining food items on Silus's bed, Hazel crawled under her sheets, lying on her stomach to ease the discomfort on her left side.

Silus emerged from the bathroom, a cloud of warm steam trailing behind him. Hazel looked up at him, trying to mask her internal turmoil.

"Try and eat something," she told him. Trying to push away the thoughts of what just happened in the kitchen. She decided not to mention her encounter with Caleb to Silus; he was already burdened with enough worry. Even though she was pretty sure he wouldn't need to for long. Snow wasn't going to be an issue after Caleb murdered her in the arena. 'Or hell, maybe before, who knows.'

Silus's gaze fell on the bread and apple. "Reminds me of Mom," he murmured, picking up the apple.

"Me too," Hazel agreed, her voice hushed as they both took some bites of the food in silence. After they had eaten their fill, they turned off the lights in their room, enveloping themselves in darkness. A soothing sense of numbness began to wash over her, mingling with drowsiness.

Silus's voice broke the stillness of the room. It was softer now. "Do you think there is anything after we die?" he asked, his words cutting through the quiet like a whisper in the dark.

She turned to face him, her movements slowed and mellowed by the pain medication. "I don't know," Hazel’s words drifted softly in the dim room. "I'd like to think there's something more... a place where we're free from all this. I can't imagine it would be all for nothing."

"I hope so. Sometimes, I wonder if my mom is there waiting for me."

Hazel shifted her sore limbs. "Maybe she is.” She traced the pendant-shaped lump with her fingers. "And maybe she and Cedar are there together, watching over us." A small, dreamy smile crept onto her face. "Can you imagine? They're probably having some really awkward family reunion."

Silus chuckled, the sound echoing in the dark room with an almost comforting familiarity. "Yeah, that would be something," he said.

Hazel continued to drift into a state of relaxation. Her mind begged her to surrender to a dreamless sleep.

"Love you, Silus," her voice barely more than a whisper.

Though on the edge of consciousness, she heard him reply, "Love you too, sis. Always."

"Always," she echoed, the pill's tranquility carrying her away into the realm of dreamless oblivion.

A few hours later, Hazel awoke to her shoulders being shaken. Her brain was shrouded in a thick fog, and pain sparked down her side with the movement.

"Haze, get up; something is happening," a voice, eerily like Silus's, reverberated in the periphery of her muddled mind. She peeled open her eyes, vision swimming with a disorienting blend of reality.

"What?" she managed to mumble, her voice heavy and sluggish. A stern but muffled yell came from outside their door, jolting her into a semblance of alertness. Then, more yelling followed. "What time is it, Silus?"

"It's still the middle of the night. It's been a few hours since you went to sleep," Silus's voice replied, his tone urgent and serene. The loud sounds outside their door continued, multiple voices running up and down the hallways. The pale moonlight filtered through the window.

Then, as if in a dream, the door to their room swung open with a loud slam against the wall. Hazel was in a daze as a peacekeeper barged into the room, his eyes scanning the darkness with a stern intensity. He approached Silus and grabbed his arm.

"Come with me," the peacekeeper ordered.

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"What's going on?" Silus croaked. The peacekeeper didn't answer; instead, he yanked Silus up to his feet and dragged him toward the open door.

Hazel, still foggy and slow from the medication, struggled to regain her balance as she stood. She called out, her voice sounding foreign, "Wait, where are you taking him?"

Silus turned to look back at her. Before he could respond, he was shoved out into the hallway, the door slamming shut and locking behind him. Hazel stood there in the dark room, alone.

Her heart was pounding, her mind still hazy. With unsteady steps, she made her way to the room's door and pressed her ear against it, straining to hear any signs of what was happening outside. The hallway had grown eerily quiet, save for the occasional footstep and the steady breaths of the peacekeeper standing guard right outside her door.

She stood there for what felt like hours; the silence weighed on her. She slid down to the floor, her ear still pressed against the door, as panic welled up inside her. With trembling fingers, she clutched her necklace, her mind desperately attempting to clear the fog induced by the medication.

Time stretched on endlessly, and the darkness outside her window showed no signs of giving way to dawn. Hazel remained in her spot on the floor, and exhaustion and mild sedation eventually caused her to nod off.

A clicking sound from above her head pulled her out of her coma. The door's lock disengaged. Hazel scooted backward away from the door as it swung open, revealing another peacekeeper.

He looked surprised to find her on the floor. "Get up," he ordered. Hazel complied, rising to her feet. Her hands were jerked in front of her, and the cold steel of handcuffs encircled her wrists. The peacekeeper binding her hands stumbled before righting himself. As he walked, he appeared somewhat unsteady. Odd.

The peacekeeper's grip on her arm was firm, and Hazel winced as she was led through the manor. She searched around, hoping for a glimpse of Silus. Emerging into the backyard, the early morning darkness enveloped her, only broken by the faint glow of garden lights scattered throughout the space—the central fountain's waters whispering in the quiet of the night.

Commander Percy stood in front of the fountain; his figure was menacing against the backdrop of the poorly lit patio. His posture was rigid, arms crossed, eyes smoldering as he surveyed the tributes gathered before him. They were all handcuffed, some kneeling, others seated on the cold stone. Hazel's heart raced at the sight.

Across the space, Silus’s gaze met hers. Leo stood to one side of Percy, dressed in a casual shirt and slacks, a contrast to his usual uniform appearance. Several peacekeepers, too, appeared to have been hastily summoned, evident in their less formal attire.

Hazel was nudged forward, stumbling as she was pushed to kneel on the hard patio stone beside Marina and Flynn from District Four. Her fresh wound burned at the sudden movement, and she grunted under her breath.

Percy's voice cut through the night, commanding immediate attention. "Get everyone out here now," he ordered. The tributes from District Two were shoved to their knees next to Hazel. Caleb, with his large frame and short, curly dark hair, landed with a heavy thud beside her. His district partner, Eve, was thrown down next to him.

Hazel caught a flicker of a smirk on Caleb's face, a dark amusement in his eyes. "Hey, red, long time no see," he whispered.

She returned his smirk with a sharp glare and turned away. She scanned the patio; notably absent were the tributes from Districts Nine, Six, and Three. Ava and Ian were also missing. The night air was thick as the remaining tributes exchanged anxious glances.

"Good evening, or should I say morning, tributes," Percy began, his voice laced with barely concealed rage. He paced in front of the gathered tributes, his gaze sharp and assessing as it swept over them. "You know, in all my years overseeing the Hunger Games, I've seen many groups of tributes. And I must say, you lot have been treated exceptionally well. We've provided you with food, clothing, and all the comforts that the Capitol has to offer. We've even indulged you with fancy parties and educational field trips."

He paused, allowing his words to sink in, his eyes narrowing. "Yet, it seems that some of you fail to appreciate the generosity. You've been given privileges and comforts that past tributes could only dream of. And how do you repay that kindness? With gratitude? Respect? No. Some of you choose to squander these opportunities with reckless and ungrateful behavior." Percy's voice grew colder, more forceful, as he continued to address the silent tributes. "Tonight, we're going to address that ingratitude. Does anyone have any idea why we are gathered here at this ungodly hour?" His stern gaze swept over the assembled tributes, who remained silent. Percy’s boots thrummed rhythmically against the stone patio, his eyes piercing into each of them. "There are actually three reasons.”

"Reason one," Percy’s voice took on a dramatic edge. "Bring them in." His command was abrupt, and Hazel's heart leaped into her throat. The sound of multiple boots crunching along the garden path was soon accompanied by the unmistakable noises of whimpering and bodies being dragged. Fear gripped Hazel as she and Silus, on the opposite side of the patio, exchanged a look. She wanted nothing more than to run.

A group of peacekeepers emerged, dragging six almost unrecognizable figures. One by one, they were forced to their knees, each with a peacekeeper standing behind them, weapons aimed at the back of their heads.

Hazel's stomach tightened as she recognized the familiar blonde curls and warm brown eyes of the person nearest to her. Lara Montgomery, District Six. The six battered figures were the tributes from Districts Nine, Six, and Three. Hazel's breathing quickened, a mixture of shock and fear taking hold as she realized these were the same tributes she had seen conversing by the fireplace earlier.

Percy's booming and commanding voice vibrated through the still night. "Take a long look, everyone. This is what we call the consequences of our actions. Your fellow tributes here made a bold but extremely ill-advised attempt to escape."

"As you can see, this misguided plan has not boded well for them," Percy continued, continuing to pace in front of the kneeling tributes. "And while we cannot execute them before the Games and lose a quarter of our tributes..." He paused, his glare sweeping over the subdued group, "I can assure you, before this is over, they will wish we had."

Hazel's heart ached as Ruby sobbed; the young girl's tears streamed down her face.

Percy moved down the line of the tributes who had attempted to escape, scrutinizing their barely controlled ire. Their postures were evidently defeated and exhausted, and their eyes were downcast. Percy paused in front of Owen Harvey, whose strawberry-blond hair was matted with blood and dirt. Percy tilted Owen's head up to meet his gaze, revealing a swollen right eye that was almost entirely shut. Percy huffed in disdain and stepped back, his face contorted with disgust.

"Get them out of my sight," Percy commanded, his voice laced with repulsion. The peacekeepers moved in, dragging the six tributes away into the depths of the manor. Ruby's sniffling continued to echo in the silence that followed.

As Percy dabbed his hand with a handkerchief, removing any trace of contact with Owen, his demeanor remained stoic. "Reason two," he announced, pausing for a moment to let his words sink in. "The female tribute from District Eight is dead."

Hazel's eyes widened in shock, and her stomach flipped at the news. His eyes were devoid of any warmth, only the harsh truth reflected in them. "Her district partner killed her during the night.” Poor Ava. How could you kill a tribute from your district?

Murmurs and gasps rang out among the tributes, the news sending a ripple of horror through the group. Hazel felt a knot form in her stomach; the thought of such betrayal and violence against one's district partner was unthinkable.

Percy's voice cut through the tension, "Effective immediately, you will no longer share rooms. You will be separated and restricted to your quarters. All common area privileges are revoked unless supervised and in cuffs. In fact, get used to some time for meditation and reflection because the only time any of you will be leaving your rooms is for the interviews tonight and then the games tomorrow."

Percy's voice was chilling and suddenly calm as he asked, " Okay, finally, does anyone have any guesses about the third reason?"

The tributes remained silent, no one daring to venture a guess. Percy's expression turned grim. "I'll give you a hint," he said, his tone growing colder. He reached into his pockets, pulling out two clear plastic bags with the word 'evidence' printed on the side. In one lay two partially dissolved purple pills, and in the other, a crude, makeshift weapon.

Hazel's gaze followed the object in the second bag, her heart sinking as she recognized it. Wrapped in cloth and tape was a bloody and bent suture needle. Panic coursed through her heart and limbs at the sight of it.

"It seems our wayward tributes had some... assistance in these tragic recent events," Percy continued, his voice laced with disdain. "These pills were found in the water bottles of my peacekeepers. Our would-be escape artists combined with knowledge of the surveillance system, presumably from District Three, in an attempt to break out of the manor." He then held up the bag with the weapon, "And this shiv was used to kill Ms. Iris Overstreet."

Hazel felt her heart pounding against her chest; her fear overwhelmed her pain. The realization that the items traced back to her and the consequences that might follow sent a wave of dread washing over her.

She couldn't help but glance at the shiv; a wave of nausea followed. Knowing the blood on it belonged to the woman made her stomach churn. She lifted her gaze, meeting Leo's eyes for a moment. His face was a mask of controlled composure, but there was a tight tension in his jaw, and his breathing accelerated.

Her attention then flicked to Caleb. He was unfazed, his dark eyes holding a silent warning that chilled her to the bone. Why he wasn't among those who had attempted to escape?

Percy continued, his voice cutting through the tense air. "We searched you all for contraband upon arrival. These items must have been smuggled in afterward. Anyone care to confess?"

He gave a warning glance to his peacekeepers, then began to pace in front of the tributes, his boots echoing on the stone. "No takers?" His smile was cold, almost predatory. "Then we'll do this the hard way. My peacekeepers are currently searching your rooms. If any contraband is found, the owner will face the same consequences as our escapees from Districts Nine, Six, and Three."

Hazel's heart raced with fear. At that moment, a peacekeeper approached Percy, whispering something into his ear. Percy's expression hardened as he listened. Then, locking his attention on Hazel and then Silus. "District Seven, stand up."