- Lilian Turner!

The male voice announced the name on the stage and I could feel heads turning towards me. I knew I should go there. A look to my brother's frightened face confirmed that yes, Amadeus, the escort, had Reaped my name among thousand others.

But at the same time it didn't seem to be me. It wasn't supposed to be me. My turn would come soon. But I still had a last year before being thrown in the Arena in search of a symbol for the revolution which just needed a face to start, mad had been planned since the first Hunger Games edition.

My legs took me automatically throw the crowd of children who opened space ahead of me, the girls new a little less tense. The talk I'd had with my father in the morning came back to my mind:

"Why are you so nervous, Dad? It's not me this year yet."

"Not yet. But it will next year."

"You know that, I know that, and what's the point of dwell on it? I might not even need to go. Who knows the face of the rebellion isn't at home right now, about to be Reaped?"

But it brought me no solace for thinking like that. If that person was in this precise edition of the Hunger Games, that would mean one agent less. Especially Sam, who was my friend, although we didn't meet regularly.

"I know you, that's not what afflicts you, Dad."

"Talking like that, you sound just like your mother. It's nothing, Lilian. Just a bad feeling."

"Stop it. The worst that'll happen today is seeing an innocent stranger going to the Arena."

"It could be you, the fact that you're not being sent in mission doesn't discards the possibility of your Reaping, my daughter."

"Come on, my name's only in there five times."

He sighed.

"You forget that if the 13 has power to manipulate the Reaping, the Capitol has a power twice as big. Then can put you in there, even if only to get their revenge on your brother."

"Revenge? What for? Alex's victory, thank heavens, was pretty boring. For Capitol standards, I mean. He was basically smart and ran and hid, and then killed the last tribute by accident. The most ridiculous accident ever. If he had planned it, it wouldn't have worked."

"Exactly. He basically said that the Games were so stupid that he didn't even have to try to win. It was very unpopular among the citizens."

"Great, they hate us. Now, can we go?"

After that we'd walked to the Justice Building, with Alex. The day was pretty, no clouds, a bit chilly. We arrived early. Alex went to the stage, sit beside Beetee and Wiress, our neighbors, also Victors. I went to the side meant for girls at the age of 16, and my Dad joined the others too old to be sent on the catwalk. On District 3, we didn't have a square like in other Districts, the center of the city was a large avenue, where there was the commerce, the town hall, the school, and the best houses. The Victors Village, where I lived, was actually adjacent street to that avenue. In another street like that one, began the worker's houses, the poorest and largest layer of the population lived, this "neighborhood" extended parallel to the Avenue, and around that, were the factories. The big screen, the stage and the area meant for the candidates to tribute were in one end of the Avenue, beside the Justice Building. And the rest was spread behind it and on the catwalks.

Now I was standing in front of the bizarre Capitol escort, who had painted his face and body of gold, and wore a green suit, covered in feathers.

- Another Turner! Fantastic! Your parents must be so proud! Two children destined to the glory of the Hunger Games!

I stared at him unbelieving. Really? No, really? He probably got it, because he stalked away to Reap the male tribute.

- Chris Malesk. – A younger boy, brunnette, who I didn't know, but looked close to tears and unable to walk was pushed to the stage by the Peacekeepers.

They say mothers have a sixth sense, maybe mine had given a little bit of hers to her husband before she died. He, as usual, had been absolutely right. It was all about revenge. And it was just beginning.