Drowning by Little April
A cold sea breeze ripples through the air. Waves break along the shore, crashing and curling in unison. Droplets of rain threaten to fall as heavy storm clouds roll through the blackening skyline. From my place along the shoreline, I watch in silence as the water laps around my feet. My toes dig into the wet sand. A hand rakes through my tangled tresses, each twisted curl darkened with shadows from what little light bleeds through the clouds.
A storm is brewing.
And as I glance back at the waves that tumble to a shuddering stop, I let out the breath I had been trying to swallow.
Another Reaping Day in District 4. Another promised death.
And one last chance to slip through Fleur Rosehearty's fingertips as she declares the fate of two of our district's children.