Peeta

Our car is barely moving through the mob of crazed Capitolites that are storming the streets. We sit silently for a while. I turn around and see the car with Effie, Arin, and Madge is faring no better. My eyes drift back to the crowd and for a moment I want to let the hope overwhelm me. The Capitol is mad with emotions they don't know how to process. They've never known a tribute before, never loved one, as best they think they love us. Katniss's unborn baby going into an Arena? The street is deafening with outcries of rage. Maybe this will change things. Maybe if they ask, things will finally be different.

"It won't change anything for us," Haymitch says as if reading my mind. He's not delicate with his words. Haymitch doesn't know how to be delicate. But he feels bad saying them. "They don't even know what to ask for," he adds. "They're like children throwing a temper tantrum."

I know he's right. In my head, I know he's right, but I can't help but feel overwhelmed with disappointment. My stomach feels like it's solidified. Like I have a stone in my body and not organs, like it's so heavy I might crash through the seat of this car and onto the street below. Did I just risk our lives for nothing? My eyes drift to Katniss, who stares out at the crowd, not even bothering to acknowledge Haymitch's statement. I just want to keep her safe. All I have are my words, and they mean nothing. They did nothing. I can feel Haymitch's eyes on me.

"It was a genius move, kid. Maybe things won't be different for these Games, but you are the first person to ever get them to even ask the question. Are the Games right?" Haymitch adds, knowing the roar of the crowd will drown out anything the listening devices might try to pick up. "It could change something. Someday."

Will that matter if Katniss isn't alive to see it? I look over at her but she doesn't say a word. I can read her looks now, though. She's trying to process the emotional conflict battling in her head. She's worried. When we first got in the car, she was bold and on fire, but as she's been ruminating in her thoughts her mood has shifted. She's worried about her family after the Mockingjay dress. She's worried about Cinna and me. She's worried about all of us after the stunts District 12 just pulled in the interviews. The empowerment doesn't go away, though. The worry doesn't overtake the pride. She just hit back in a way Snow was not expecting. She called an entire nation to fight back. She's defiant. Angry.

And worried.

Katniss doesn't know how to deal with the quarrel inside her heart, so she's silent instead.

"What about Madge?" Katniss finally asks. She wants to know if Madge got herself killed. If she's a target now, too, like Katniss. Like me. We were the ones pushing back, the ones fighting. We never meant to get her involved.

"She just did the smartest thing she could to keep Prim safe," Haymitch says gruffly, his tone not matching the comfort of his words.

Katniss and I look at him like he's grown two heads.

"She basically accused the Capitol of cheating, of rigging the Reaping," I spit out. How can that possibly help?

"And now, if the Capitol hurts Prim, it will look like they're doing it on purpose to punish Katniss," Haymitch explains. He takes in our gaping expressions and leans forward toward us, speaking slowly. "They can still say the Quarter Quell Reaping was a fluke, but that's it. They don't have any more chances now. If they harm so much as a hair on Prim's head, all eyes are on Snow. He's not that stupid." Haymitch goes on. "She can't have an accident. She can't be arrested. Everyone is watching her now. For the first time, Prim is actually safe."

I feel like I can finally exhale, that we can go into the Arena and not worry about our sister. But the relief is short-lived as a realization washes over me.

"The Undersees," I say. Snow must be furious. Just because he lost one target doesn't mean he won't find another.

"The Hawthornes," Katniss breathes, and in a word I know it's true. Snow can't lash out at the mayor without it looking like an obvious act of retribution from the Capitol, but the Hawthornes are fair game. Snow knows that Gale is Katniss's best friend; that they kissed in the woods. He knows Madge lives with them. Snow could hurt both Katniss and Madge at once, and most of Panem would be totally blind to what it means.

I want to reach out and grab Katniss's hand but I know she'd hate that. She doesn't want to be comforted when she feels guilty, she wants to beat herself up. She thinks she doesn't deserve comfort. I keep my hand still at my side.

There's nothing any of us can say. We did the right thing. We know that. But it's one thing to sacrifice yourself, and it's another to sacrifice the ones you love. Katniss has never been one to let someone else pay her debts.

I can hear her thinking, and it makes my stomach sick.

If I die in there, it will all be okay.

I don't care what she thinks she wants. I reach over and squeeze her hand. She squeezes back, and finally, she breathes.

Lillian

The people leave almost immediately after the show ends. Prim stays in the kitchen with me for a bit, but eventually she gets so tired she starts to nod off at the table until she finally goes upstairs to bed. I should make tea. I should clean up. I should do anything. Instead I feel like my body weighs a million pounds, like it would be impossible to even lift my hand.

There's a quiet knock at the door. When I don't respond, it creaks open slowly.

"Lil? I saw the light on," Abel's voice calls out in a whisper. I should say stop. I should say leave. But he sees the light in the kitchen and closes the door quietly before making his way across the room. When he appears in the doorway I don't even turn my head.

"Hi," he tries to say unobtrusively, but his presence is obtrusive. The air is obtrusive. The world around me is obtrusive. I just want to go to sleep and pretend none of this is real. I can't bear the torture of living if this is what it always brings.

I don't respond.

"Are you okay?" Abel asks.

I don't respond.

I can't.

He leaves me sitting in the kitchen and heads to the living room. I hear the clinking of cups and plates as he gathers the dishes from my guests. He opens the door to the kitchen with his foot and makes his way to the sink, carefully placing the items in one by one. He leaves again. I hear sounds. He's tidying up. When Abel comes back to the kitchen, he goes straight to the sink, washing the cups and placing them upside down on a dishcloth on the counter. I don't know what my feet are doing, but I move toward him. I take the dishtowel and start drying the mugs, putting them back in the cupboard. My fingers linger on the last cup.

I'm living. I hate myself for it.

The kettle on the stove whistles and I realize I don't know when Abel did that. He takes the mug from my hand and pours the hot water inside, adding a cinched bag of herbs before handing it back to me. The familiar scent of thyme creeps up my nose.

"In the morning, and at night," Abel says. I bring the cup to my lips.

"How did you…" I start to ask, but he takes out a piece of paper and puts it on the counter in front of me. It's Katniss's writing. I'd know my daughter's hand anywhere. There's a map of where in the woods she gathers the thyme. There are some notes on which merchants carry it and where it can be bought in the Hob in a pinch. She has instructions on how to steep it and for how long. At the bottom, her hand scrolls the words for sadness.

"Twice a day," Abel repeats. "No exceptions." After a moment's hesitation, he adds, "Our daughter needs you."

I drink the tea until it's gone. He squeezes my hand and leaves. I stare at the door and wonder how he still has it in his heart to take care of others when his son is lined up to die tomorrow. I head upstairs, but before going to bed I creep into Prim's room. I pull the blanket up to her chin. She looks at me blurrily.

"You got up," she whispers.

"I did," I confirm, gently sweeping my hand across her forehead.

"I love you, Mom," Prim says, quiet in the night air. Like a secret.

"I love you too, Prim," I reply.

"Do you think Katniss is sleeping?" she asks.

"No," I say truthfully.

"Me either," Prim whispers.

Katniss

We sleep and we don't. We take turns panicking, waking the other accidentally, slipping under again. Peeta has finally drifted off after spending an hour staring at the ceiling with a rock in his throat, his hand clenched tight over mine.

"Do I have anything to be sorry about?" he'd whispered the moment we were offstage, his arms wrapped around me tighter than they've ever been.

"No," I confessed with a warm breathe on his shoulder.

I'm still awake when the coin begins buzzing in the nightstand. I look to Peeta but he's too lost in some nightmare to hear it, his arm draped over my waist. I reach my arm as best I can while keeping my body still. I pull the drawer open, but as my torso stretches Peeta wraps his arms tighter around me. My fingers sloppily fumble inside the drawer until I finally pick up the coin and sweep my thumb across the face. The buzzing stops. Acknowledged. I'm coming. I look at Peeta and wonder how I'm going to manage this. I can't be gone long. I move away from him as slowly as I can until his arm slips off of me and lands gently on the bed. He stirs for a moment, but I reach over and squeeze his hand. It seems enough to reinforce that I'm safe because he slips back to sleep.

I don't have a lot of time.

Madge

The light from the hallway shoots a beam under my door. It's barely anything, dull and barely there, but I stare at it because I can't bear to look at anything else. I can't look at this room. I can't look at the dreadful imaginings living on the inside of my eyelids. The bathroom is nothing but mirrors and I can't even look at myself right now. So I'm staring at the light under the door when it flickers. Someone is in the hallway.

That's impossible. I heard nothing. No doors, no footsteps. If it's so quiet I can hear my heart pounding in my chest, certainly I'd hear someone in the hall. But the light breaks again and I know I'm right. I creep out of bed and crawl toward the door on my hands and knees. When the light stays solid, I reach up and turn the handle slowly. Who would be here? Peacekeepers? Guards come to punish me, to cut out my tongue, to teach me to show some respect? I swallow and turn the knob. I peek out just in time to see Katniss slip silently down the stairs. I know I should stay. I tell my feet to be still, but instead I'm out in the night, following her down the hall. The suite is locked, I have no idea where she is going. Then I realize she must be sneaking to Peeta's room. I feel guilty watching her, but when I peer over the railing toward the lower floor of our suite, she's not at Peeta's door at all. She's standing at the door to the outside hall.

Is she attempting to escape?

Katniss turns the handle it is unsurprisingly locked. I expect her to turn back, but instead she takes something shiny from her pocket and swipes her thumb over it. There's a click and the door releases. She slips outside and I leap to my feet, sprinting down the stairs. I barely reach the door in time to grab the handle and keep the latch from clicking shut.

I try to be quiet like her but I know I'm not. It doesn't matter though. When I peer out into the hallway, Katniss is already gone. I huff my breath, my head shooting side to side until I see the door to the utility stairwell. That's the only place she could have disappeared to before I reached the hall. I take off a sock and shove it in the doorframe to keep the door from locking on me. I walk down the corridor quietly when I hear a man's voice muffled through the utility door. I press my cheek against the cold metal but it's not much better. I look to my feet and find a small gap at the bottom of the door, and for the second time tonight I drop to my knees and press my ear against the gap.

"It was stupid," I hear Katniss say.

"It was brave," the man says back. It takes a minute, but I finally realize she's talking to Finnick Odair.

"I've received word from District 13 confirming escape details," another voice says. I can't place it. Higher pitched, but it's not a child. My mind is too clouded to focus on who anyway. It's what he said that is important. Escape. "The hovercraft will appear above the northernmost segment of the Arena at midnight on the fourth night. Any changes to that plan will be communicated to Finnick or myself."

"The priority is to get Peeta out. He just had nearly every Capitol citizen screaming on the streets for the end of the Games. He did it in less than five minutes. Imagine what he could do speaking candidly to the entire nation. He could call the Districts to arms. He could seed hope in freedom and doubt in Snow's regime. He is what we've been waiting for. After tonight District 13 is absolutely sure he's the voice to lead the people into revolution," a third voice adds. Deeper. Solid.

"Then what is Katniss?" Finnick asks.

"The martyr we rally around," the man responds, and I feel as though all the weight in my body slams into my feet. I know that voice. I remember it from television.

That's a Gamemaker. What is Katniss doing with a Gamemaker?

Finnick argues with him for a while, but Katniss is noiseless. She's not even protesting being offered like a pig for slaughter. I can't put it together, I don't know what she is trying to do, how she thinks she is going to get Peeta out, but she's sacrificing herself for him. For Panem.

"Symbols live on. Her Mockingjay will be emblazoned in armor and tattooed on skin. Her sacrifice will be eternal. But what we need is a living, breathing leader to show Panem the way," the Gamemaker says.

Finnick starts to protest.

"It's fine," Katniss finally says. "I want Peeta living and breathing. I want this." The last sentence is gentler. It's for Finnick alone. I feel guilty hearing it. "What about Madge and Arin?" Katniss asks.

My body flushes with emotion. Why is she even thinking of me at all? Then I realize she owes me. I saved her sister. I volunteered for Prim. I didn't do that to be another person she trades her life for. It was the opposite, even.

It can't just be that, though. She doesn't owe Arin anything.

"I'll get them out," Finnick promises her tenderly, but with enough firmness to show he's certain.

They start talking logistics. Where Katniss's weapon will be. Something about a wire. Something about trackers. I don't know why they are whispering now when they weren't before, but it's mostly inaudible to me through the door.

"No!" Katniss raises her voice. My heart thumps in my chest. "I don't care, Beetee. I'm not leaving those kids for a bloodbath."

"We have to get the wire. We cannot afford to potentially jeopardize the escape plan by saving the tributes. I want to help them too, but the lives of many cannot be sacrificed for the few," the Beetee insists.

"There is no part of me that can leave them behind," she spits back, her voice strained. I hear shuffling behind the door.

"We'll get them out. Yours and mine and anyone else that wants to come along. Johanna agreed too, remember?" Finnick says.

"I trust Johanna about as far as I can throw her," Katniss spits back.

"That is Haymitch's mission, not Thirteen's," the Gamemaker inserts himself. "The important thing is to get the tools needed from the Cornucopia to complete our mission without losing Peeta."

"We can't let the Career Victors kill a child, Plutarch. You know that," Finnick states. "We need all the districts to unite of this rebellion is going to work. We need One and Two. And the whole of the other districts will resist them if one of those Victors kills a little kid."

They argue.

"You can't save everyone!" Plutarch raises his voice.

"You can't stop me from trying!" Katniss yells back. There are shushes and the shadows under the door shift. I hear Finnick whispering something to Katniss but I can't make it out.

"Fine. We'll prioritize weapons," Katniss says, but there's a tone to her voice. "I'll get my bow. You get the wire," Katniss says defiantly. I hear someone gulp.

"I… I…" Beetee stutters.

"Good," she quips. She needs her bow to save the kids anyway. She's conceding nothing.

I hear footsteps and I leap to my feet, less quiet than I'd like. My head shoots back but I have no idea where the intruder is or where I could possibly hide. There's another door in the hallway and I try it fruitlessly.

"Whatcha doin' out here, spit fire?"

Only one person calls me that. I turn around slowly.

"I was…"

"You was what? Spying on a secret meeting?" Haymitch snarks back. I don't know what's going to happen to me. Does he turn me over to the Gamemaker? Am I punished somehow in the Arena for breaking the rules? But when I dare a look at Haymitch, he's not mad at all. He has a slight smirk on his face. "I don't know what to do with my girls this year," he adds almost playfully, and for a moment my chest aches. It's the kind of thing family would say. A father would say. "Go," he says more seriously, jerking his head over his shoulder, back down the hall toward our suite.

"But–"

"I won't tell if you won't," he says.

"I won't tell," I promise.

"I believe you," he responds.

I walk past Haymitch. I want to reach out and grab his hand, but he's not that kind of person. Instead, he waits for me to be a few feet down the hall before opening the door.

"What did I miss?" he blares before the door closes again.

Peeta

I jolt awake, my chest heaving.

"Katniss," I whisper, reaching my arm next to me, but my hand just sweeps over empty sheets next to me. "Katniss!" I call out, panic surging through me.

Her head pops out of the bathroom, toothbrush in her mouth. I try to catch my breath.

"Sorry," I pant, dropping my back onto the bed. I hear the sink and she crawls into bed next to me.

"Sorry, I had a bad taste in my mouth," she whispers before curling into me.

"Me too," I response, but I realize it's not out loud.

Something's wrong.

Something's left a bad taste in my mouth, too.