Capitol, District Seven's Penthouse, Day 8 of the Games: Magnolia Babineaux

Magnolia knew from the moment she picked up the phone that something was wrong. Seriously, horribly wrong. Sylvia's breathing was off; it was thick, heavy, as though she had just been pulled from a reckless sea, half-drowned, her lungs full of water.

"She's dead, Mom," Sylvia said, her voice scratchy; Magnolia immediately knew who but couldn't bring herself to believe it.

"What? Sylvia, who – who's dead?" she asked, not wanting to hear the answer – that would make it even more real, even more true – she didn't know yet but for a moment she allowed herself to imagine that it wasn't who she knew it was.

"Eur-" Sylvia managed to get out the first syllable before bursting into a flurry of choked sobs. Magnolia felt her knees go weak, heard a sudden sharp intake of breath that she supposed came from her. It had to be a mistake. Eurydice couldn't be dead, not her granddaughter, not the girl she had spoken to only days ago. How could she be dead?

Magnolia tried to say something, but no words came out; she could hear her daughter still crying on the other side of the line and wondered how it had happened. "Sylvie… how?" she managed, her throat suddenly dry and scratchy; she hoped that Sylvia would be alright until she got home.

Sylvia hissed angrily, sounding remarkably like a cat. "It was the twins."

Magnolia furrowed her brow, not knowing immediately who Sylvia was talking about. It was as if her memory was still stuck in the past few moments, and she paused for a second before finally remembering to respond. "The twins?"

"C-Cypress," Sylvia hiccupped. "Myrtle. They took her and none of them came home."

"What do you-"

"A revolution, Mom. They were trying to organise a revolution. They were all executed," Sylvia said, her voice breaking on the last word.

Magnolia shushed her hastily; the lines were certainly tapped. She had explicitly ordered Perry not to involve her granddaughter in the rebellion – she should have known that he wouldn't listen. She should have known that Eurydice was involved – she could have stopped it. "Do not tell me anything else, Sylvie. I will see if I can come home."

"What about Johanna? She needs you."

"You need me more."

"Eury- she would want you to stay."

Magnolia sighed. "Yes, she would, wouldn't she." It wasn't a question; they both knew that it wasn't. They both knew what Eurydice would have wanted, above anything, anyone, else; Sylvia would have to manage on her own for a little bit longer.

"I just-" Sylvia was crying again, softly this time – her voice sounded worn, tired, as though she had been crying consistently for several hours. "I c-can't believe she's really gone."

"When?" asked Magnolia, keeping her sentences short; she didn't trust herself not to break down, and she could tell that she needed to be strong. Sylvia needed her to be a rock; emotionless and grounded. She could not and would not allow herself to be anything else.

"Y-yesterday. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I only found out this m-morning, I-"

"Hush," Magnolia said. "Deep breaths." She was saying it for her own benefit as much as Sylvia's – deep breaths had gotten her through her Games, through her many years of mentoring – she hoped they would get her through this, too.

"You have to get Johanna home, Mom," Sylvia said. "For Eurydice."

"I will," Magnolia whispered, so softly she wasn't sure if the words had left her mouth. "Be safe, Sylvie. I will see you soon."

"I'll be alright, Mom," Sylvia said; they both knew that it was a lie.

She heard the click from the other end of the line as Sylvia set the phone down. Magnolia clutched the phone to her chest and felt herself sliding slowly down the wall, which she hadn't even realised she'd been leaning on – it couldn't be true. Surely it wasn't true?

Her throat was thick but Magnolia knew that if she started crying she wouldn't be able to stop. So she didn't start. Forcing herself to stand, Magnolia dropped the phone and brushed her hair out of her face with her hand. It was as though she was on autopilot all the way to the Control Room – she stormed into it, ignoring the quizzical looks the other mentors gave her, stepping around them as their mouths opened to speak. The Careers were in a little huddle in the corner of the main room; Magnolia desperately wanted to eavesdrop but there was no time for that. Thoughts tried to enter her mind but she pushed them away – if she let herself be distracted she would crumble.

Blight and Oscar looked up when she entered the room – questions written on their faces that she didn't care to answer. "This must end," she heard herself saying. She had to get home to her daughter – and Johanna had been in the arena long enough. It had to end. She had to go home.

Her two fellow mentors shared a glance before nodding at her – they knew better than to ask questions when she was in such a state. They knew, anyway, that she would answer them eventually – it could be weeks before they got a response, but they knew they would get one.

Magnolia was glad, when they left. Panning out the screen, she took in Johanna's surroundings – she would be fine where she was, as the nearest tribute was over a kilometre away, and to make things even better it was only the small boy from Five. But Johanna would have to start killing, sooner than they had planned. Magnolia wanted her out of there so they could both go home.

There wasn't much of the sponsor money left, but Magnolia didn't care. The money would start flowing in when Johanna started to hunt – already the audience knew she was now the one to watch. The fight with the bear had pleasantly surprised them, which was the exact reason Magnolia asked Horatio to send it. It would never have killed Johanna – Magnolia spent an extra hour with Horatio to ensure that – but the Capitol didn't know that. They now knew that Johanna wasn't the cowardly girl they had thought she was. They now knew what she could do; they now knew that she would only continue to impress them.

Magnolia quickly typed out a short note, and sent the order. It arrived quickly. Johanna looked up, surprised when she opened the parachute to find the miracle bandage, which was a temporary fix to sprains. It would work for only a day or two – but by then, Magnolia hoped that Johanna would be on her way back to the Capitol. Johanna's surprised expression only grew more surprised when she read the note, her eyebrows knitting together as she tried to make sense of Magnolia's words.

End this.

Sorry this took so long, and I know it's kinda short. I've been super busy with school this week; the holidays are in a couple of weeks though which I am so excited for. I'm also working on a longer chapter which is nearly done.

Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. I'm sorry it's so sad.

Have a great day/night!

-Audrey :)