Marcus and I had an interesting conversation that year. While rumors are rudimentary at best, they have the potential to grow. And the one gaining strength has to do with a traitor amongst the Capitol elite. The deterrent for suspicion against Marcus has its benefits at home, but I know I'll be scared stiff by the end of all of it. In the back of my mind I know this is a journey I need to make.

Once again Marcus has paid a visit to the District. He stays in the Victor's house next door. Gray and I stage a conversation about how upset both of us are that he has placed himself in such proximity. Honestly, if Marcus had been my so called 'lover', this most certainly would've unsettled me.

In town, Marcus inspected the Peacekeepers and the performance of the Head Peacekeeper. I knew he was going to arrange an incident that I would interfere with but I never thought he would carry out a punishment.

"Stop it!" I cry.

Marcus turns an icy glare at me. This is one look I've never seen on his face before and suddenly I'm frightened. He regards me for a moment before his hand flies through the air and across my face. There's a collective gasp from the crowd as I fall to the ground. I forget that all of this is part of the script as I try to make sense of what just happened.

The next thing I remember is Marcus' towering figure over me. He sighs, "No tears again Falon?"

I don't look at him and don't dare look at the crowd knowing none of them would come to my aid. I don't look because I really don't want to be proven right. The only safe place left is the ground. There I watch my blood mix with the dirt.

"Get her up," Marcus orders.

A pair of Peacekeepers lifts me from the ground by my arms. I flinch slightly as Marcus tenderly takes my face in his hands. Gently he dabs the blood from my face with a damp cloth. With a gesture the Peacekeepers let me go to stand on my own.

"You need to pack for a trip, my dear. I'm going on a tour of the arenas and you're coming with me."

I'm still in a daze and the horror I feel in that moment is real.

"T-the reaping is next month," I fumble.

"Then you're going to miss it won't you? Now go."

I stumble slightly as the crowd parts giving me a clear path.

"And Falon, do behave yourself. I would hate to learn one of your sons became a tribute and you didn't get the opportunity to say goodbye."

Fear grabs at my chest. I have to tell myself over and over again that this whole scene wasn't real. But that last bit wasn't part of what we discussed. For a moment I thought Marcus was President Galba.

As I walk to the road that goes to the Victor's Village I see someone unexpected. Kyle and I have rarely spoken since our falling out nearly a decade ago. He just couldn't understand my behavior in the Capitol. But now here he is looking at me with sympathy and apology.

Angry tears fill my eyes. Secretly I've hoped for the two of us to make up and be friends again. But I've already worked out that scenario. Just like before, he'll stick around for the first little bit but then back away. Besides, it's too dangerous for him to be my friend now. So I just continue walking up the path with nothing more than a brief glance.

"Falon…"

I have to drive him away. With bitterness that has increased over the years I turned back to him. "Excuse me Kyle, but I have another party to attend."

I see the look of shame on his face briefly before I go home. Within a few hours I'm on Marcus' private hovercraft heading to the arenas.

One morning I'm sitting next to the very spot where Boron died. I get privacy only because everyone else is watching the Reaping of this year's tributes for the Hunger Games. Only when District 5 comes up do I pay attention to the big screens above me.

The commentators make note of my absence as Anna gets ready to draw the names. My heartbeat increases as the very real threat of my child going into the arena takes me. Just because Marcus was faking it, doesn't mean Snow would.

"Poppy Netters… and Orrick Storms."

A tear falls down my face. Relief that Boron and Rotor won't go in this year takes over. Only one Welkin will be in an arena this time. After this there's just one more arena to tour. Mine.

"Remember what Jay said would keep us warmer?"

A young boy nods his head to the red-haired girl. "By making every male whoever had a crush on you envious."

"How does that work?" a girl asks.

The red-haired girl slides over and wraps herself around the boy. The older boy's eyes dance in amusement before he lets out a loud laugh. The younger boy is obviously embarrassed, but doesn't do anything.

"Oh."

I remember this night. It was the second and last one the four of us spent together. Rotor had been poisoned by some kind of mutt that robbed his body of warmth. One of the things Jay taught me to keep our heads in here was laughter. That was why I said what I said to Rotor before cuddling. If someone didn't at least crack a smile then I was losing my touch.

Instead of following my path from the tracker nests, I ask to follow my alliance's path. The guides said the group could split up and they would continue the tour in opposite directions. But this is my arena and no one wants to go anywhere but where their precious victor is going.

This one boy keeps pestering me with his questions. Sometimes I'm agitated but most of the time I'm grateful since he pulls me out of some of the worse flashbacks. The questions are innocent really and I think out my answers to make sure the malice stays out of them.

At the reenactment of the next night's battle people are tripping over themselves to participate. There are plenty of roles. First, there's me and then Rotor, Clea, and Colvin from my side. On the other are the three members of the Pack: Nerissa, Quintus, and Attica. Really it is sickening to watch.

My shadow sits by me throughout the presentation. Afterwards he turns to me, "So why didn't you kill her? That District 2 girl."

"Because I wanted to, Plu." The words just slip out, but I make no attempt to cover it up.

To my astonishment Plu looks up at me and says, "That doesn't sound like you."

"But it is the truth," I say.

He looks back out on the field. "I'm glad you didn't."

There's no explanation for this statement as we move on. Some get on the ride that takes them to the next location, but I opt to walk and so does young Plutarch Heavensbee. Really, the kid is growing on me.

For the finale instead of a bombing there are fireworks and a birthday party. Twenty years ago today I became a victor. And as I said before, I never left my arena. Only found a way to live in it.