Very confused, Donna reread the paragraph over and over.

I am sure you will be delighted to hear that Donna's marks seem to be drastically improving. While it's still very early in the year, I've noticed that she does all of her homework now, and stays behind for extra help every day. She had had a few quizzes already, and they're utterly stratospheric when compared to just last year. I have no idea what can be thanked for this change, and Donna herself just shrugs her shoulders and says she wants to be an engineer. She even switched into university prep classes, after that huge fight she went though to be allowed to not take them! Hopefully by the time I see you next, I will have an actual explanation of what is going on.

While Donna was delighted that her daughter had finally dealt with whatever had been troubling her (and just in the nick of time, too), she was also very, very confused. While it did make perfect sense that a few weeks of hard work would result in drastic improvement at that level, that still left the question of why she would want to improve in the first place. Leaving that aside, what had convinced her to want to become an engineer when she had just spent years being so diametrically opposed to it? Dr. Chu would have a field day analyzing her daughter's behaviour.

Something must have happened during the summer to make her reconsider. Donna wondered if her daughter had spent a long time thinking about it, or if it had been a snap decision in some moment of extreme emotion. Had someone said something? Or maybe perhaps one of her friends had managed to change her mind? Donna wished she knew more about her daughter's friends other than the fact that they existed at all.


"Seriously, how am I supposed to interpret any of this?" Donna asked as the walnuts fell down around her. They were shaking the tree to make the nuts fall down.

Picking up a nut and tearing off the outer skin to reveal the tough shell, Theodosius crouched down and leaned his back against the tree. "No idea," he said. He smashed two nuts together and picked out chunks of the edible part, breaking the shell with his fingers. "You want some?"

"Thanks." Donna took the nut fragment and ate it. It tasted oily and slightly bitter but was still tasty. She gave the tree a few more shakes. A handful of nuts fell down, one of them hitting Theodosius on the head. She laughed, and so did he. "I think that's it for now," she said, crouching down next to Theodosius. "If it's not falling down, it's probably not ripe yet."

Trying to find the nuts in the tall grass was next to impossible, though. The outer covering was green, blending in with the grass very well. Every time she shifted she stepped on a nut, but when she actually tried to find it with her hands, it was gone.

"Look!" Theodosius hissed. "Two directors!" Donna looked up and saw the directors from Twelve and Two walking down the path and talking. Seized with a sudden idea, she took off her cap and began to fill it with nuts. Noticing what she was doing, Theodosius did likewise. When the directors approached them, Donna and Theodosius stood up and offered the nuts to them with a friendly smile.

The director from Twelve awkwardly said "Thank you" and stuffed the nuts into his pockets. The director from Two had an odd expression on her face, pity and revulsion and confusion all mixed together, but she still took the nuts from Theodosius. They walked on, and Donna and Theodosius went back to their nuts.

"Why was the director from Two looking so strangely at us?" Donna wondered out loud.

"No idea," Theodosius said, tossing a nut into the bucket. He ran his hands through the grass. "Maybe we should have mowed under the tree."

"Next year, we will." Donna tossed two nuts into the half-full bucket. The little tree had been completely covered. "I just realized, you did manage to scare the tree into productivity. Remember how you threatened to cut it down?"

"Wait, really?" Theodosius asked, looking up from the ground. "Sorry, tree," he said, patting the trunk with an outstretched hand. "I wouldn't have done it, you know. I promise. Next year, if you don't want, you don't have to bear this much fruit. I promise I'll be okay with it. I don't want you to feel like you're being threatened into doing something." He ran his hand over the bark a final time and went back to tossing nuts into the bucket.

Running her hands over the ground, Donna prompted Theodosius again. "What do you think is up with Donna?" she asked.

"Tell me your ideas so far, and I'll try to comment on them," Theodosius said, breaking open two more walnuts. "Want one?" he said, tossing one to Donna. She switched to a sitting position, picking out the nut fragments from the shell.

"That's the problem, I don't have the faintest idea. I get that she would feel uncomfortable admitting that the reason was something as prosaic as wanting to please the family, but if Dem has no idea at all, then it's all just pure speculation." Donna stuffed several pieces of walnut into her mouth. "Maybe she just grew up. After all, I haven't seen her in months, who knows what could have happened to her then."

"Maybe." Theodosius was more interested in the nuts than the conversation, not that she could blame him. Donna picked out and ate another fragment of the walnut she was holding. "Tell her I'm happy for her, by the way."

"I will."

"Maybe you should ask Dr. Chu."

"I will." Donna ate another piece of walnut.


"So, I hear congratulations are in order?" Donna asked. Her daughter stared back blankly and shrugged. For a second it looked like she had been about to smile, but then it disappeared, and she looked more gloomy than anything.

"Congratulations for what? I haven't done anything." Strangely enough, she looked sadder now than when she had been doing poorly.

"How did you do on that Physics test you wrote me about?"

"Alright," she replied evasively.

"What mark did you get?" Donna insisted.

Looking down, her daughter mumbled "Ninety-two" in a barely audible voice.

"But that's amazing!" Donna exclaimed. "You should be proud of yourself!" Her daughter shook her head, saying nothing. Was Donna becoming a perfectionist like Lars? Now that would be an ironic twist. The others would probably laugh."What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She scratched the back of her neck. Her hair was noticeably shorter than last time. "I'm just worried about my boyfriend."

What? Since when did her daughter have a boyfriend? "What happened?" Donna asked.

"He has some problems with his family," she replied evasively. The two Donnas looked each other in the eye. "I'm worried about him."

Donna had about a hundred questions. She decided to start at the beginning. "So, how long have you been together for?" she asked. She was missing out on so much!

"Well, we've been friends since the beginning of the school year, but we only started dating a few weeks ago. He helps me study, and I bake him cookies." She smiled slightly. "He motivates me."

Glancing to the side, Donna saw that the wardens were carefully pretending to not be paying attention. "You know, your dad always baked for me when we were at uni," she said wistfully.

"I know. Um, this might be an awkward question-"

"If you're alright with our companions hearing, go right ahead," Donna said, gesturing at the wardens and the director from Eight.

Her daughter tapped the table with her fingers. "Did you date anyone before Dad?" she asked.

"No, we were each other's first. If you want to know about relationships at your age, ask Cynthia," Donna said. "Or your grandparents." It was a bit surreal to realize that her daughter was now old enough to date.

"Um, thanks. I'll do that."

"So, what's he like?" Donna asked, curious to know more.

Her daughter smiled. "His name is Mike, we have a few classes together. He used to go to a different school, but he moved to our neighbourhood during the summer."

"Is he also good at school?" Donna asked.

"No, not really."

Donna blinked, taken aback. "Then how does he help you study?"

"Well, he quizzes me and whatnot, and he's super-motivating. And he always tells me that my cookies are delicious." She blushed slightly.

"You know," Donna said, "swap the recipient and giver of the cookies, and that's your dad and I during our first few years together in a nutshell." In a slightly sarcastic tone she added, "I'm sure your grandparents are thrilled."

Her daughter laughed. "They don't dare complain, not when my marks went up once I started dating him."

Was that perhaps the reason for the sudden high marks? A desire to avoid grandparental disapproval? An absurd reason, really, but Theodosius had apparently done stranger things in highschool, so who knew. "Well, as long as your marks are good and you're happy, that's good," Donna said. "Could you tell me some more about Mike? What's his family like?"

"He doesn't really talk about his family. He lives with his aunt. He doesn't get along with his dad, and doesn't talk about his mom." Donna wanted to press more, but remembered how her own parents had endlessly pressed her for details about Dem that she could not give.

Instead, she decided to do a gentle prompt. "That's all he's said about his family?"

"Maybe once he feels more comfortable with me," her daughter said, staring at the ground. "He's really open with me otherwise, just not in this," she said in a slightly desperate tone.

Donna rushed to assuage her daughter. "Don't worry if he never does," she said soothingly. "You know how your dad never talks about his family? Maybe he just prefers not to talk about it."

"I guess so." Donna had a feeling her daughter wasn't being a hundred percent truthful, but then again, it was probably very awkward for her to say even this much in front of five strangers. "I'm actually going to visit him after this."

"That's nice. Tell me more in your next letter, alright?" she asked. "I know it must be uncomfortable to talk about something personal in front of strangers."

"Sorry," said a warden, a young man from Nine.

"It's no problem," her daughter said to the warden. "You're just doing your job."

Donna cringed at the phrasing, but not as much as the director, who looked to be wondering if the rules permitted shouting at a visitor. "In any case," she said, trying to change the topic as fast as possible, "how are your siblings?"

"I was worried about how Lars would take it, but he finally managed to get a ninety, so he's got no reason to be upset."

That was good. In his letters, he had always been so upset about always falling just a little bit short of his goal, and, of course, the earlier he got into the habit of doing well, the better. "That's great!" Donna said. "I see you're all improving this year! I'm sure your dad is very proud of you."

Shrugging, her daughter explained that he said he was proud of her no matter what. "I don't think it changes anything," she said. "He is happy and all, keeps on trying to give me advice on boys. But Grandpa and Grandma practically imploded from happiness when they found out my test results."

That reminded Donna of something. "How did they react when you said you wanted to be an engineer?"

"Oh, they were thrilled. Grandpa started telling stories from your university days." Donna cringed. "Did you seriously go through first year on coffee and snack cakes?" Donna cringed even more.

"Not exactly," she said lamely. "Only during exam season."

Her daughter looked slightly shocked. "And did you really-"

Donna cut her off. "In any case, have they started giving you advice yet?"

"Mostly 'just be like your mother and everything will be fine', and also some muttered warnings about Uncle Alex."

That was probably the worst possible way to phrase that. Donna was glad that her daughter didn't feel uncomfortable at being like her, but her parents clearly hadn't gained much in tact over the years. "Well, yes, but not when it comes to what you eat, alright?" she said, straining to keep her tone light. "And they don't know that I was on the verge of breakdown half the time during the first year. Don't be afraid to be a little bit vague when they ask you about marks. If they hound you over every little quiz - well, I'm sure you know."

"I know."

"I remember how once, I failed a chemistry midterm," Donna reminisced. "I told nobody until I ended up passing the course, and even then, I only told your dad, not my parents. They still have no idea. Your dad was upset, though, he couldn't understand why I didn't trust him with such a little thing. It wasn't a little thing to me, though." Donna had a sudden idea. "I'm going to say that in my next letter," she said with a grin. "Your uncle Alex will have a stroke."

Her daughter giggled. "Grandma and Grandpa will faint." Turning serious, she added, "I'm not really thinking about university yet. I have to get through this first."

"At this rate, you will have no issue whatsoever getting in, and you need to plan ahead," Donna pointed out. "Who knows, if I had thought about anything-" she cut off, trying to fight off the emotion. "I always just went along with what my parents said. It's good that you made an independent decision. Even if it's what was expected of you, the important thing is that you were the one who made the choice."

"Uh, thanks." She glanced at the wardens. "It just seemed like something I would enjoy doing."

"I'm sure you will."


Hunching against the drizzle that bordered on rain, Donna tried to explain the situation. "Apparently, the reason my daughter's marks improved is because she started dating," she said as the small cluster headed down the path. Alongside Rodriguez's relatives being outraged at the fact that they hadn't been allowed to his deathbed more than one at a time and the directors' great debate on whether or not Aslanov's upcoming heart surgery would be done outside the prison, her daughter's much-improved marks were one of the topics all of the inmates wanted to know more about.

"That seems counterintuitive," Theodosius said, pulling his cap lower to hide his face from the rain. "I remember when I started dating, it made me stop caring about school."

"Are they tutoring her?" Vartha asked.

Donna shook her head. "Donna said he helps her study, so I assume he quizzes her and whatnot, but she also said he's not very good at school. I think that maybe she was worried my parents would forbid it and justify themselves with her bad marks, so she leapt to deny them that opportunity. Since they were desperate to have her marks go up, they're jumping for joy instead." She shivered. She was wearing her thin sweater, as the warmer one was in a better state and thus reserved for visits. Maybe she should ask for a new one.

"And what does your husband think?" Vartha asked, visibly shaking from the cold. He wasn't wearing a sweater at all, only his shirt sleeves peeked out from his jacket sleeves.

"He's happy she's doing well and keeps on trying to give her dating advice." Donna realized she should have asked more about him.

Theodosius jammed his hands deeper into his pockets. "That's nice," he said. "You were so worried about her, it's good you don't have to worry anymore."

"Now I'm worried something will happen and she won't be able to keep it up," Donna said. "She said she wants to be an engineer, though, so hopefully that will keep her motivated."

Williamson, who had been silent up until then, spoke up. "A third-generation engineer, then?" she asked.

"Fourth, actually. I'm beginning to suspect it runs in the family," she joked.

Theodosius chuckled. "No wonder your poor brother had it so bad."

The rain became softer, a fine mist-like drizzle. Donna straightened out, rolling her neck to get rid of the stiffness. Theodosius hopped over a small puddle and slipped in the mud, nearly falling down. "Nice," Donna said as he regained his balance.

"Thanks." Theodosius shook the water off his sleeves. "I hate this weather."

Vartha looked down at his shoes, which were covered with mud. "At least we get some fresh air," he said without conviction.

"This is the third day in a row!" Williamson pointed out. "I just want to see the sun already."

"Look on the bright side," Donna said. "At least while it rains, they're not going to make us dig in the mud. I'm not looking forward to that."

Glancing around, Williamson took something from her pocket and shoved it into her mouth at the speed of lightning. Before Donna could blink, she was walking along like nothing had happened. "Then don't volunteer to dig up the beets, if you don't want to get muddy."

"I'm not going to slack off just because of a bit of mud," Theodosius said stubbornly. They walked past the beets, whose leaves dripped with rainwater. Soon enough, that patch would be bare earth. Donna looked up at the leaden-grey sky, feeling the icy mist on her face. Even though the jacket was waterproof, she still felt chilly and slightly damp. From this far away it was impossible to see what the sentry in their tower was feeling, but they were probably just as miserable. They had to stay up there for two hours, after all. It was, however, possible to see that the machine gun wasn't aimed at them but at the outside. It still looked strange to her, and for a second, Donna thought something was missing before she remembered.

Recently, there had been rumours that some former Peacekeeper general was planning to break into the Supermax. While journalists rapidly discovered that the aging veteran was too busy working as a mall cop to break anyone out of anywhere, the administration was still tense. Donna hadn't realized that they would go so far as to decide that the external threat was greater.

"What are you thinking about?" Theodosius asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"The machine gun isn't pointed at us," she said, gesturing at the tower. "Still feels strange."

Vartha nodded. "It's nice that we're not forgotten, at least."

"Nice?" Williamson asked. "This isn't the sort of attention that will help us in any way, shape, or form. Breakout, indeed!"

"So what?" Vartha said with a shrug. "No such thing as bad publicity, in my opinion. And in any case, everyone knows that story was nonsense."

Williamson looked at him with an irritated expression. "No such thing, huh? I don't think Rodriguez's family appreciated it. If half the country thinks they should be afraid of us, the administration's just going to tighten the screws."

"Exactly," Donna said. "They were trying to solve the issue quietly, and then this happens. Not that I think they were right to go to the media."

"If not the media, then to whom?" Vartha parried. "Maybe we professionals have our old connections to rely on, but the Games functionaries have nobody." He looked up at the sky. "I think the rain stopped." While it was still chilly and damp, the drizzle was gone. Donna took her hands out of her pockets but put them back in after realizing that letting them hang by her sides meant them touching the wet fabric.

Williamson didn't have the same problem, as her sleeves were so long, the tips of her fingers barely peeked out. "That is true. I understand the sentiment, but he didn't deserve to be treated in such a way!"

Donna agreed with that sentiment. What good would come of forcing an old man to die in prison, rather than at home? It just looked like Thirteen was deliberately being as stringent as possible, interpreting the rules in such a way that the harshest possible measures were taken against the inmates. Odd, that the guards were so friendly, but the administration was so tough.

"I'm worried it will cement the precedent," Theodosius said.

"I'm certain it will cement the precedent," Donna snarked. "All that fuss his family kicked up, and still nothing? I wonder what the media said."

Theodosius sighed. "That's the question, isn't it? We don't even know what exactly his family did. We're just going off a couple of vague phrases. For all I know, the 'huge fuss' was actually a single op-ed in some random tabloid."

"Well, that's the guards for you," Vartha said darkly. "I'm aware of the littlest details of the fight they had with their significant other over videocall, but I don't know what's going on in my own house. We don't even know the name of the Mayor of the Capitol!"

"What, you don't agree that what someone's spouse in Eleven thinks about their parenting abilities is more important than national politics?" Donna asked sarcastically.

The three laughed. "In any case," Theodosius said, "what's done is done. I see very little chance of us not spending quite a lot of time in here."

Williamson looked ready to argue but said nothing. So did Vartha. Donna herself agreed with Theodosius, though she wasn't going to give up. Livia and Dancer said that there were many influential people in industry who supported her. Maybe, with some more time, something would happen.

"Maybe in a few years, once all of this calms down," Williamson said. She sounded desperate to believe her own words. "This is all so wrong. I shouldn't even be here!" She looked around the yard and turned to Donna, who tensed. "Out of curiosity, what do your older children think of all this? Given their ages, I wonder what they know and don't know."

Donna let out the breath she had been holding. "Donna doesn't really care for any of this stuff. Lars used to read newspapers and he's also read the book by Aurelius and Mallow, he says that he still doesn't understand, not that I disagree with him there, and I don't know what the younger ones think."

"Wait, isn't your oldest son in middle school?" Vartha asked. "Seems a bit early for such a serious book."

"All of my children read a lot," Donna explained. "My husband heard from some experts that it's good for children and young people to be readers, so he taught them very early and encouraged them constantly." She wondered what Octavius was reading now. He was improving by leaps and bounds, apparently.

"That is very good," Williamson declared. "None of my children were much for reading, and when they got to university, they struggled to write as much as a short essay. And you should see how many spelling mistakes they still make! Autocorrect won't always help you. Your husband is a smart man."

Wringing out his cap, Vartha made noises of assent. "Very true. My wife had the same problem with some of ours." Vartha's children were twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-five, and twenty-five. "The more they read as children, the better they did in school, even if the content had nothing to do with what they were studying. It trains the brain, you know." He jammed his cap back on his head.

"Well, I'm sure my wife is thrilled that she has such a good proxy-uncle for her kids," Theodosius said. "I'll pass on to them that you approve."

"Mr. Vartha, I think I have to disagree with you there," Donna said. "After all, Donna did spend several years borderline failing school."

Vartha shook his head. "Still proves my point, though. She recovered rapidly. You need to already have the potential to do well in order to achieve such drastic results."

"I just hope she keeps it up."

"I'm sure she will."


After the usual pleasantries and asking what they were doing and if they were reading anything interesting, Donna decided to go ahead with her idea. After all, her parents' wrath probably would not reach into here.

Mom, Dad, I have a confession to make. Remember how in second year I was very evasive about my marks until I suddenly showed you my transcript? Well, that's because I wasn't doing too well. I struggled a lot in the beginning of the year, but then managed to rally and ace my exams, with lots of support from Dem. In chemistry, I actually failed one of my midterms, but still managed to pull off an A in the end. Crazy, right?

Hopefully her parents wouldn't explode too badly. Donna finished her letter and sat down on her cot, reaching for a book.


Don't say things like this, you'll give your poor brother a heart attack! And if you heard a scream of horror on the fifteenth, that was your parents. Apparently, you managed to corrupt our daughter despite not even being here! Don't worry, that was temporary and now they're back to blaming me. Alex is indignant, though. He wants me to tell you that's he's very annoyed you managed to pull the wool over their eyes for half a year when every little one of his wrongdoings was immediately found out.

Dr. Chu was very interested in this new development.

"The part about your parents is a joke, right?" she asked as she put the letter back on the table. The chair creaked ominously under the weight of the average-sized woman. "You told me before the two of you use hyperbole a lot."

"Yes, yes, he's exaggerating here," Donna rushed to explain. "I'm sure my parents grumbled a bit, and that was all. I don't think they ever actually shouted because of me, not even when Dem and I got married without telling them, and they don't really blame Dem for anything, not anymore."

Dr. Chu reread the letter like it was a seized document written in a very obscuring language. "Are you glad you wrote about that to your family, now that you have the answer?" she asked.

About to respond in the affirmative, Donna realized where this was going and paused to think a little bit longer, kneading the purple ball. "Yes," she said warily, "but honestly, I just thought it would make Donna feel a little bit better about herself, and I also thought my parents' reactions would be funny. After all, I spent decades pretending to have always been the dutiful student."

"But did you ever find yourself close to slipping?" Dr. Chu tapped her pen.

Why couldn't she just come out and say what she meant? "No," Donna said, playing along. "After all, I had an A+ average that year, so I almost never had to actually lie about the midterm or two I didn't do so well on."

"You have a very close relationship to your husband, and you never told even him."

Squeezing the ball with her thumbs, Donna tried to explain it. "I got myself into a state where I almost believed it myself," she said with a shrug. "I was fully aware of the truth, but my first instinct was to lie." The psychologist had her right where she wanted. Donna braced for another round of questioning.

"Is this something you tend towards?" Dr. Chu asked.

"You know as well as I that I tended to close my eyes to the truth," Donna said, looking her in the eye. "Not lie. I didn't even know there was anything to lie about!"

"And the witnesses-"

Donna threw her hands in the air. "Witnesses claimed that they had seen Krechet when he had been in a different District at the time! It's not like there's a shortage of people who vaguely resemble me. They probably saw some local manager or other, then heard about me, and conflated the two."

Dr. Chu leafed through her papers. For a terrible second Donna thought she was going to take out a photo of her at an execution or something else along those lines, but the psychologist just seemed to be looking at some old notes. "With the example of Krechet, though, the fact of his infamy is to blame. People knew to be afraid of him. What reason would people have to think of you in such a way?"

"I was the Head Engineer," Donna explained, "responsible for all of the construction in the Wilds. It's easy enough to assume I had supreme authority over all punishment, and from there, the reasonable conclusion is that I was present at executions. So if someone saw someone who looks like me, it's reasonable that they thought she was actually me, especially if they saw her from far away or are bad with faces."

Dr. Chu wrote all of that down. "Interesting," she said. Donna rolled the ball between her palms, listening to the squishing sound and waiting for the next question.