The sound of gunfire overpowered the cries of the people of Capitol City, fleeing after the rebel attack. Lyssa Trinket was crouched in a corner, her hands clasped over her ears, rocking back and forth in a desperate attempt to fall asleep to escape this hell.

- Mama! - she cried through her tears - Papa!

No one answered, no one would come to get her. The house like the sky was collapsing on the thirteen year old girl and she didn't even have the strength to move.

Instead, someone had come to get her. When Lyssa opened her eyes again, the first thing she saw was Aunt Effie's radiant smile. The woman told her everything: about the rebel war, about the Mockingjay, about what she, Effie, had done, about Snow's fall, about the president, Alma Coin, who had been dead for two weeks, and about Paylor, now the head of state. Then, lowering her voice, she added that her brother, Gaius Trinket, and his wife, Amanda, had died while trying to escape.

- But that's all over now, sweetheart- Effie said, taking her granddaughter's hand -from now on we'll live together and have a great time.

Lyssa smiled shyly, returning her aunt's squeeze.

- And besides, I also brought you a friend- the woman did, turning towards the open door of the room.

- Jendy, dear, come here- she called softly. A tall thin girl, with dark skin and long black hair braided in two buns, walked uncertainly towards the bed where Lyssa was. Effie put a hand on her arm and looked at her niece.

- Do you remember my dear friend Cinna? - she asked. Lyssa nodded. - She is his niece. Unfortunately...- the woman's voice cracked - Unfortunately, both Cinna and his partner Portia died a few months ago and then Jendy's guardianship passed to me-.

Effie stood up, trying to keep a smile on her face.

- But now I'll leave you two alone to get to know each other better - she said cheerfully - I bet you'll make friends right away.

She quickly left the room, before the tears started to flow. Jendy sat on the bed and peered at Lyssa with interest.

- You are too kind to be the daughter of a Gamemaker- she murmured. The other shook a blonde curl from the nape of her neck.

- You're too shy to be the granddaughter of the rebel stylist- she answered with a smirk. Jendy smiled back.

\\\\\

The gray rebel trucks, overloaded with supplies, passed back and forth through the streets of Capitol City. Helios Flichart watched them lazily from the window of his room, leaning his head on his crossed arms. He was a pale, elongated-faced fourteen-year-old with short curls dyed pink and pearl flowers set on his left temple.

- Helios!- his father's hoarse voice called to him from downstairs. The little boy flinched from the window and ran down the stairs. His father, Tiberius, looked at him with tired eyes

- Take the book from your mother- he murmured. Helios walked towards the kitchen where his mother, Magdalene, was sitting on a mahogany chair.

- Hey- said the woman catching sight of her son - Excuse me but I can't lift my arm, you know...- she raised her wrists eloquently. Attached, there were two large iron bracelets, with a flashing red light on the sides. It was the rebels who had put them on her, after they had taken her out of prison. Apparently, all Gamemakers, stylists, escorts and government officials had them.

- I know, mom- said the little boy handing Magdalene his book, placed on the sideboard. He turned to leave but his mother called him back.

- Helios...- she murmured. The son looked at her apathetically. - Helios, I'm sorry for everything-

- Yes, mother- he did without emotion and left.

- Helios, shall we play? - asked his little sister Artemis, jumping around him.

- No- answered his brother and went back to lock himself in his room.

\\\\\

Thudding of stamped feet. Orders. The dry pop of a weapon against the table. More thuds of slammed feet. Silence. Laughter. Silence.

Clarisse pulled the blanket over her head, as if to distance herself from what was happening to her. Her grandfather was dead, her parents arrested and taken who knows where, her sister gone, the waiters discharged, and she had been locked in her room on Alma Coin's orders. But the president was dead. So why wasn't anyone coming to get her? Were they going to arrest her? Torture her? Kill her? Clarisse didn't know, and the only person she saw was the soldier who brought her food. But there was no talking to that one; every time he came in he looked at her as if he had killed an entire district. The one time the little girl had spoken to him, which was when she'd asked what was going on, the man had sneered and told her mercilessly that her grandfather (slimy bastard, she'd called him) had blown up the children of Capitol City and was now locked up waiting to die by the dog that he was. It had been two, no, three months since then. Who knew. The day, the night, the hours, the minutes; everything was the same, everything was empty and scary. Clarisse curled in on herself and began to sing to herself an ancient lullaby that her grandmother had taught her in happier times.

- The wind blows over Panem

The spring wakes up with dull candor

But from afar with a roar

The slow cry of a dead man rises, pa zum, pa pa zum, pa pa pa zac...-

\\\\\

- Can you hear me, I repeat, can you hear me?- asked a doctor in a snow-white coat.

A blinding light struck the eyes of the man lying on the couch.

- Yes, for the love of Panem, I can hear you - blurted out the man shaking his head.

- Listen - said the doctor turning off the light - you might feel a moment of confusion and bewilderment...

- Well, I'd like to see, I should be dead!-