Chapter One

Brooklyn

This is it. I told myself. The final reaping before my name would never again be in the bowl of tributes in District Four's central plaza. Never again would I be at risk of going to the arena. Of fighting in the Hunger Games. One more horrid day of anticipation and dread and sadness for the tribute's family and guilty happiness that I wasn't chosen and then I'd be done forever.

My family wasn't poor and I'd never had to take tesserae but we didn't have tons of money either. My mother was a servant for a richer family and my brother River and I worked on the docks all day, hauling fish and coiling rope and weaving nets. Once these games were over, my mother would never have to worry about losing her children again. She had enough on her mind. I turned to my dresser where an old image of her and my dad stood. My mother Kalei looked exactly as I do now, with her long blond hair and sea blue eyes. My father, who'd been reaped for the Hunger Games soon after he'd impregnated my mother, was wild-haired and green-eyed, like River. My mother spoke dreamily of him sometimes, and I wish I could have met him. He sounded exactly like me before he left: adventurous and confident and smart.

From my description, you would think he died. But he did so much worse: he survived and won the games but got too caught up in the fame and fortune being a tribute in the Capitol brings. So he never came home and broke my mother's heart. A few months after he'd won, she had given birth to River and me but was never the same again. Some people called her crazy, but to me, she's just a woman wishing for her true love to come back.

I faced the mirror and ran a brush through my hair. It was straight and long and bleached blond from so many days in the sun. While most girls in Four wanted to look their best for Reapings, I had decided long ago these awful days didn't deserve dressing up for. Instead, I pulled on simple trousers, a dark tank top, and my well-worn leather jacket. My hair went back into a high ponytail, blond curls falling from the band to frame my face. Pushing my feet into my boots, I left my small room.

Downstairs, River and my mom sat at the table. Like the caring son he was, River had made a full breakfast of eggs, toast, and bacon, which was a rare delicacy for us. The smell of frying meat and coffee filled my nose. My mom was stirring her coffee and staring off into space. When I entered the room, her blue eyes fixed on mine.

"Brook, listen to me!" I was shocked by her ferocity. River seemed equally confused, half rising from his seat. "You can't be picked. You have to survive. For me. For your father."

I smiled awkwardly. "I'll try, mom." With her, it was best not to argue.

She grabbed my arms. "Brook, you must survive. Be strong. Be brave. My daughter."

I looked straight at her and tried to sound as promising as I could. "Don't worry. I'll be okay."

She released me and left the room. River stared after her for a second then turned to me, looking worried. 'What was that?"

"I don't know," I responded.

He stood and faced me. While neither of us said a thing, we both had the same thought. This was just the latest in a long string of weird, crazy things our mother had done.

River spoke. "After the reapings, why don't we see if we can find somebody who could care for her. We're both so busy but maybe somebody would be willing to work with her. Until she's better." It was a nice idea but we both knew she was never getting better.

I touched his arm after a moment. It was smooth and warm and so familiar. His palms were calloused and rough but even those I could recognize with a simple touch. "Let's go," I said. "We don't want to be late."

River

The smell of fish brine hit my nose as soon as I pulled open the door. We lived close enough to the harbor that the smell was a constant part of my life. Brooklyn pulled the door shut behind us. If our mom was coming, she'd find her own way. But I would be surprised if she would remember to show up.

We hurried down the wide seaside boulevard as the Reapings bell began to chime, signaling us to hurry up. Turning left away from the frothing ocean, Brook and I made our way to District Four's main plaza, where the Reapings always took place. A peacekeeper waved us into the line of eighteen-year-olds waiting to enter. Somebody stabbed a needle into my arm to collect the blood sample.

"River Cassidy?" they asked.

"Yes," I said and they waved me onward. Rejoining Brook, we took our places with the other kids our age.

It took another ten minutes to get everyone into the right place before the peacekeepers quieted everyone and began the video. It was standard, and so dull I barely managed to stay awake during it. Apparently, we needed to be reminded every year about why we had to send our district's youth to fight each other to the death in a horrid arena for the entertainment of those who'd won the birth lottery.

Finally, District Four's representative in the capital, Elleston Ruby, made his way onto the stage, followed by District Four's only other winner besides my father. Tjara Max was dressed simply in a pale lavender blouse and pants, made simple by Elleston's ruby encrusted suit, taken from his name.

"Silence!" Elleston roared, shushing the already quiet mass of people. He rushed through the normal Reapings Day speech, ending with a "Happy Hunger Games!"

I grabbed Brook's hand while he and Tjara made their way, one to each bowl. District Four had two large screens above the stage where the two tribute's names would be projected.

Brook glanced at me but didn't say anything, then returned her gaze to the stage. Her hair caught the sunlight and sparkled like gold. She was incredibly beautiful, but her tough, down to earth manner pushed most people away.

I shook these thoughts from my mind; Elleston and Tjara had chosen the slips and were unfolding the paper, slowly to increase suspense. Like everyone else in the plaza, I looked up at the screens.

"And the tributes from District Four will be…" Elleston said. And two names appeared on the board. I didn't realize the first one was my name because I was too busy staring in horror at the second. Brooklyn Cassidy.

My sister and I were going to the arena together, where only one of us could survive.