[34] - Rochelle

August absentmindedly wipes his knife on his leg as a cannon fires in the distance. It's followed soon after by another boom. It's official - Zinnia has been eliminated. Somewhere out in the desert, Princess knows that August has betrayed her. That he's chosen me over her.

I hear a microphone crackle, and a woman's voice fills the desert.

"Congratulations, tributes," Valentina cheers. "Only four pairs remain, meaning that this year's twist has officially come to an end. From this point forward, the regular rules of the Hunger Games are in effect."

"This means, for those who need a reminder," Venia adds, "that you will be participating individually. May the odds be ever in your favor. Goodnight."

I can barely see August in the darkness, but I can tell that he's staring at me. What is he thinking right now? For the first time since we met, we're no longer forced together by the Gamemakers' twist. All bets are off now.

August slowly makes his way toward me, sitting next to me. His eyes are dark; I can tell that he's deep in thought. In the distance, a third cannon shot fires, and I lock eyes with August. This is the moment of truth - is he going to kill me now that we're no longer tethered together?

"I can't believe it," he breathes. "We made it."

I'm overcome with a sense of relief. "We made it," I echo. "Together."

I practically lunge at August, pulling him into a hug that sends us rolling down the side of the sand dune. I scream as August topples onto me, and I grab him even tighter as we roll down the incline. After a few seconds, August reaches his hand out, stopping our descent head-on and spraying sand everywhere.

August laughs as I try to pull my hair out of my face. "We made it, Rochelle!" he says giddily. "We really made it!"

The Panem anthem begins to play as August helps me to my feet.

"We made it!" August bellows over the music, calling out to the empty desert ahead of us. Freed by the sound of the music, I cheer along with him. In this moment, everything I've done up to this point has been worth it. I've manipulated my way to this point in the Games, and there's no turning back. I have the strongest tribute in the Arena on my team; Princess is stranded in the desert with no allies in sight, and Zinnia is a figure of history now.

August pulls me back toward our supplies, but I still glance up at the sky as we walk. There were three cannon shots, and I have an uncomfortable feeling that I know who the third tribute was.

Zinnia appears first, and I can't help but let out a sigh of relief. As her face disappears from the sky, I try to let my fears of her go with it. Zinnia's no longer a threat to me now, just like Pollux. I'm sure neither of them expected the scrawny orphan from District Eight to outlive them, and that's precisely what got them both killed.

Jasper is next after Zinnia. He looks much healthier in his picture - the desert really took a toll on him. I wonder if I look the same way - I've definitely lost weight in here, especially after almost dying from dehydration. Jasper's death is particularly hard for me to swallow; just like Mandy, just like the girl from Three, he died as a consequence of his partner. That could have been me, and I'm lucky it wasn't.

Jasper disappears from the sky, and my worst fears are confirmed. The third tribute to die today was Arlo, the boy from Nine. We saw him at the Feast today with his partner, Lyssa. It's obvious what happened - as soon as the partners were released, Lyssa took the first opportunity she could get to strike at her weaker partner.

I glance up at August, who's still watching the sky. I have to make sure that he doesn't get any ideas from Lyssa; surely, he wouldn't turn on me now, would he?

August doesn't seem to notice my moment of panic as we return to our pile of supplies. He lies against the side of the dune, his eyes pointed to the stars.

I know what I need to do, but I don't know if I'm willing to do it. I have to try, though. At this point, every little thing matters, and this could be the thing that saves me in the long run.

I reluctantly reach into the pocket of my jacket and retrieve my spool of thread. It's the District token that Ramona gave me seconds before I entered the Arena. It's the only thing I have from home, but really it's not the thread that reminds me of home. It's Diego, who was the only other person to get one. He was probably buried back in District Eight with the spool still in his pocket, and here I am, about to give mine away.

"Here," I say, gently pressing the thread into August's palm. "I want you to have this."

August brings the thread to his face, studying it closely in the darkness before turning his gaze to me. I can tell that he knows what this is, and he knows how much it means to me.

"You don't have to do this," August says, almost pleadingly. "You can keep it."

I look away from the boy next to me; I don't want him to see me cry. August doesn't know it, but this thread was my last hope in here. My last power play, my last move on the board. And I've just played it. I had to - for the first time since we met, August has no obligation to keep me alive, and I have to do everything I can to make sure that he trusts me. By giving him this thread, I'm giving him everything I have left. I need him to know that I'm on his side one hundred percent.

"I need you to keep it safe," I say, turning back to August. "I don't know how much time I have left in here, August, and I want you to have something to remember me by. So keep it, please."

I put enough finality in my tone that August knows not to argue. He just bows his head, slipping the thread into his pocket.

"Thank you," he says quietly. I don't respond as he returns to his laying position on the sand.

My heart is thumping wildly; I feel the inexplicable urge to rip the spool out of August's pocket. Is it because it represents my friendship with Diego, or is it because it reminds me of home? Do I really miss District Eight that much?

Either way, I know that I can't take back what I did. I've given August my only prized possession, and I've proven to him that I will do anything to ensure that he wins the Games.

If I'm lucky, he'll trust me enough to take me all the way to the end.