Flavia Flint smoothes down her magenta hair in preparation for the interviews. She beams in Rufus' direction. "Isn't this just so exciting?"

Rufus nods, his face pale. Flavia has no sympathy for him. If the man has stage fright, why on earth does he do the interviews?

A bedraggled aide rushes in the room. "It appears that there's been a…mishap," he gasps.

"What is it now, Tertius?" Flavia snaps, pursing her lips in the mirror.

Tertius wrings his hands. "Five's mother—she's dead. No family to interview now."

"Dead?" Rufus squeaks.

"Suicide," Tertius says solemnly. "Poor woman couldn't take it any longer."

Flavia grimaces. What a nuisance. Still, there will be four families to interview. "Alright," she says briskly. "Let's get a move on."

OOOOOOOOOO

The interviews are a disaster. Ptarmigan's mother hanged herself, the mother of the two from Six is clearly drunk, the mother of the ones from Nine is as quiet as a mouse, and then, for some reason, the neighbors are there, too, the mother of the girl from Ten mutters insults in Spanish while her little brother makes faces at the cameras, and the father and grandmother of the ones from Eleven won't even look at the cameras.

And then there's the announcement, once the segment is over.

"Citizens of Panem, we regret to inform you of your beloved President's passing during these Games. Please greet your new leader, who will guide the nation through this sad time, President Coriolanus Snow. Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor."

OOOOOOOOOOO

The president's dead, Oriole and Henry are in the Games, and he had to appear on live TV in front of the entire nation. Kestrel groans. Eight. They are in the final eight. And the Capitol has its one dark mercy, so they can both make it home.

He tries to comfort Mrs. Whittaker, but he isn't sure how. She is barely talking anymore, just staring into space. It breaks his heart to see her like this. She was almost his own mother. And Oriole and Henry were almost his siblings, but not enough to place him in the Games.

Five days have passed in the Games. They have been the worst days in Kestrel's life. And he's watched Oriole and Henry change, especially when they argued over Paloma's fate earlier that day. The Henry he knew would never suggest abandoning a twelve-year-old girl. His childhood playmates, his neighbors, his best friends, his siblings—they're never coming home.

OOOOOOOO

Ptarmigan pricks her finger on her knife. A tiny bead of blood shimmers on her fingertip. Good—the blade's still sharp. She bounces on the balls of her feet. It's the twilight of the fifth day, and she is focused, burning. Her ears are pricked like a wolf's. She can just make out the gibbous moon from behind the dancing silver clouds. This is her time to hunt.

She weaves around the labyrinth of stones, alert for any sound of tributes. And then she hears voices drifting among the stones.

"Can't we stop for the night?"

A deeper voice. "No, we have to keep going. Just a little longer, then we'll climb up and sleep."

A pause. Ptarmigan holds her breath. "I miss them."

Silence.

Then Ptarmigan eases around a stone to see two silhouettes in the moonlight.

"What's that?" A girl's voice, high-pitched with fear.

"Shhh…"

Ptarmigan springs out, hurling her knife in one fluid motion. The larger figure springs out of the way, and the knife clatters against the stone.

"Run, Wren! UP!"

The smaller figure scuttles spider-like up the stone. Ptarmigan draws another knife.

"That your sister?" she asks, a grotesque smile pulling up her lips.

The man doesn't answer. He just draws his sword, the blade winking in the moonlight.

Ptarmigan sizes him up in a heartbeat. Bigger than she is—most people are, though. Like her stepfather, may he burn in hell. Before the man can react, she sends a knife singing through the air. The man twists aside, and it lodges in his shoulder. He grunts in agony, and Ptarmigan races up the stone.

OOOOOOOOOO

Helio pulls the knife from his shoulder with a roar. Fear for his sister has turned him savage. The girl from Five is already half-way up the stone.

"Wren!" he cries. Without thinking, he hurls himself at the stone. It scrapes his knuckles, but he ignores the pain, clawing his way to the top. When he reaches the top, pulling himself over with a yell of rage, he sees his sister darting across the long length of the slab. He unsheathes his sword and follows in a berserker's rage.

She has his sister pinned down, but when she hears his footsteps, she hauls Wren up and pins a knife against her throat.

"Bitch," he snarls.

She cocks her pretty little head. "I'd be more polite if I were you."

"What are you going to do, Five? You kill her, you know I'll have your head off in the next instant."

Her green eyes blaze with a rabid fury. "You can try."

"Your stepfather," Helio says. "You killed him." It isn't a question.

She bares her teeth. "You don't know what he did to me!"

Helio is frantically stalling for time. Wren's eyes are closed. She looks so fragile. He just wants to tear her from the grasp of this girl and fly her home to District 11.

"Who else did you kill?" Helio asks.

"Gavin from One. The victor." Her lips curl into a savage smile.

Helio takes a deep breath. "Let go of her now, and I won't kill you."

She shakes her head. "There's eight of us left. There is no more time for mercy."

"Let. Go. Of. My. Sister. Now."

"Helio," Wren murmurs.

"Quiet," Ptarmigan hisses. The moonlight has bleached all color from her face. "They're coming."

Helio hears the buzzing before they descend, a flock of miniature metallic birds. He throws up his sword to protect himself. They'll be pecked to shreds.

Wren is screaming. Helio turns through the fray and sees that Ptarmigan is using his sister as a human shield. Rage boils in his stomach. He swings his sword viciously, and a dozen birds plummet from the sky. He tugs his sister from Ptarmigan's grasp. But the District 5 girl is wily and quick. Waiting till Helio is distracted by the maelstrom of tiny birds, she shoves him over the edge.

OOOOOOOOO

Time stutters to a halt. Wren opens her mouth to scream, ignoring the birds in her hair. Ptarmigan watches, her green eyes utterly calm. Helio's eyes turn to stone. Slowly, so slowly, as if he were moving through molasses, his large brown hand wraps around Ptarmigan's thin white ankle. The birds twitter and buzz, and Ptarmigan is pulled off her feet, down with Helio.

And then time races forward, and Wren screams, the sound splintering the night, and Helio yells his sister's name one last time, and the last thoughts circles through Ptarmigan's head, and then comes the impact with the ground, and the two cannons.

Wren fights the birds off as best she can. She is no warrior. She is a simple girl from District 11 whose brother died to save her. But she makes the last choice of her short life, and she goes down fighting.

The Dead and the Gone:

Anna Vireo, age 17, District 1 and her father Gavin Vireo, age 38

Seraphim Elysium, age 15,District 2, and her twin Sartorius Elysium, age 15

Lucia Waltz, age 13,District 3 and her cousin Alvin Cunningham, age 13

Chelsea Hamilton, age 16,District 4, and her uncle Rhett Hamilton, age 35

Ptarmigan Elling, age 15,District 5 and her stepfather, Nikolas Elling, age 46

Elena Larch, age 14,District 7, and her father Jack Larch, age 50

Mayva Perry, age 18,District 8, and her boyfriend Marcus Twill, age 18

Rafael Ortega, age 60, District 10, Paloma's grandfather

Wren, age 14,District 11, and her brother Helio, age 20

Ash Collins, age 15,District 12, and her brother Peat Collins, age 12

The Survivors:

Anthem Redpath, age 18,District 6, and her brother Patrick Redpath, age 19

Oriole Whittaker, age 16, District 9, and her brother Henry Whittaker, age 14

Paloma Ortega, age 12, District 10

Thank you all so much for your reviews! They mean so much to me!