So, I did say last chapter there would only be 2 chapters of interviews, but that was before I had it written out. So here's 3 more interviews, and the last 2 coming soon. Again, thank you, dear readers and commenters and critics and followers. We may be few, but I would seriously write this for just one person if I had to. Good luck reading...

Chapter 64: The Sacrifices We Make

Samantha Marie Hoffman, 17, District 5

"Ugh," I groan. My previously shrunken stomach is full to bursting. At least with all the discomfort in my abdomen, it helps take my mind off of the dull ache from the chest wound I sustained from Vesper at the Circus Maximus. It's not infected, yet, I think, but it's not getting any better either. I just finished the last of the clean linens and bandages after cleaning myself earlier, and I still don't have any topical medicine for it. If it becomes infected from being down here. I don't know what I'll do…

We definitely shouldn't have eaten so much, at least, not all at once. I notice that we ate over half of the food that was set out on the table for us. I look over at Kale and Aemillius, and they look to be in much the same condition as I am. While I'm flat on my back, barely able to move, Kale is sitting up against a wall, holding his stomach, and Aemillius is pacing back and forth, looking like he's about to hurl.

Urp! I belch. That feels a little better, but I also just came nauseatingly close to throwing up all over myself and the floor.

Of course, we haven't spent the last six hours just eating. We've also been enjoying each other's company. After Aemillius tried talking about our alliance and the likely ending of it earlier, I took it upon myself to help us forget all about it for as long as we could. So, we've been eating and laughing, drinking and joking, and eating ever since.

But now I wish we had had someone to reign us in a little, to think first about rationing the food, separating some to eat right away and some to divide between us later. Actually, that someone should have been me. After all this time priding myself over my big brain, my logical thinking, and the non-existent rivalry with Tesla, I had a moment of weakness and let my stomach take control over everything. I gorged myself to my heart's content. And now I'm paying the price. We all are.

"This is your official fifteen-minute warning, tributes. Fifteen minutes until your respite ends and fighting resumes. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

My heart jumps a little, since I've been purposely not thinking about what's going to come next. Aemillius is pacing faster and more anxiously than ever now. I roll myself over in an attempt to at least get to a sitting position. I don't know if I have it in me to stand up quite yet. I'm on my hands and knees when I think I hear a sound from the hallway. I see Kale's head turn in response to it as well, so I know I'm not hearing things. He must have heard more than I do because he suddenly stands up against the wall, much nearer to the door than Aemillius or I.

After a few more seconds, he whispers, "No way," and bolts out the open doorway. Aemillius and I simultaneously make a move to follow. He's fast-walking after him while I'm making another effort to push myself up to my feet. Before I can get further than planting one foot, I notice a change in the wall facing me. A section of it seems to have converted into some kind of video screen. I'm wondering what its purpose is when a picture appears. It shows a woman in a fancy suit holding a microphone in each hand.

Immediately, I call over to Aemillius, who is just about to walk out into the tunnel. "Wait, Aemillius. Look!" I point at the wall as he turns around at the urgency in my voice. His eyes fix on the wall but he stays where he is at the doorway, still with an air of anxiety about him.

I connect the dots right before the woman confirms my assumption. "Good afternoon. I'm Sheila Ryder, and I'm here in District 5, fielding interviews for two of our Final Eight tributes: Samantha and Aemillius."

As she pauses, I turn in time to see Aemillius walk out the door. I assume he's checking on Kale, since he ran out without saying a word. I'm concerned for Kale too, but I can't risk leaving and missing a chance to see my family. I turn around and find myself staring at them. At least, I think it's them.

"I'm here with Samantha Hoffman's family. Would one of you like to introduce yourself and your family to our viewers, please?" My dad reaches for a microphone and Sheila hands it to him.

"Of course, ma'am. My name is Blaine Hoffman. This is my wife Madeline and our daughter Natalie, and we are natives of District 5. Our families have lived here for generations."

"Thank you," she replies. Could you tell us a little about Samantha? What are some of the things she enjoyed doing?"

My father goes to answer again, and it's now that I notice his demeanor. He was serious and over-protective while I was at home, but now he seems so tired, almost beaten down. "As far as I know, her main pursuits ever since she entered school were academic. She prided herself in her intelligence. The many trophies and awards she won show that." He looks at my sister. "Is there anything you would like to add, Natalie?"

She nods and receives the microphone. "Yeah, um, we were like best friends when we were younger. Sam kept the nickname I jokingly made up for her, ridiculous as it was. She even let me come along when she hung out with her other friends. My favorite thing to do with her used to be going over to McCullom Park, one of the only real parks in the city. We would lay down on the grass and look up at the clouds, sometimes for hours. It seems so simple now, but when I was little, it was such huge deal that she would do that with me. But…" She pauses, thinking over her words. "…like Dad said, over the past few years Sam's been focused a lot more on school and stuff. Which, I mean, is great, but, it left a lot less time for us to hang out." Her smile is strained a little, as though she regrets saying so much. She looks over at Mom and hands her the microphone.

She holds the microphone up to her mouth, timidly almost, as if it will bite her. "I think, maybe my husband and daughter are being a little hard on Samantha. I'm so proud of her accomplishments. Someday, they'll get her somewhere in life. Because of her intelligence, she'll have more options to choose from when thinking about a career."

She lets her hand fall to her side, signaling she's done talking for now, and that's when I realize why my family looked so different when I first saw them. It's most obvious when I look at Mom. It's only been a few weeks since I left, but I see new wrinkles on her face, worry lines crossing her forehead. Her hair seems faded and frazzled. As I look from her to Dad and Natalie, I notice that they all look skinnier than they used to be. Sure, we're not as well off as we were before the war, but we still had enough. So what's going on at home that I don't know about? The reporter breaks my line of thought with another question.

"So, what's one thing you would say to Samantha if you could talk to her, face to face?"

My mom holds up her microphone again. "I would just tell Samantha that I'm so proud of her, for all she's done. And I know she has a bright future ahead of her..." Her voice breaks and I can see her eyes tearing up as she hands the microphone to Dad.

He clears his throat. "Samantha, you know we love you, so very much. Whatever happens…we're so proud of the beautiful young woman you've become."

Then Natalie takes the mic. "Samalana Banana, you're my best friend. I miss you, and I miss spending time with you. Promise me we'll go cloud watching together when you come back." Her huge smile wavers, and she looks at the reporter. "And I think there are a few friends here who would also like to say something."

"Terrific," Sheila the reporter responds through a smile that seems more than a little forced. She must have a deadline to meet that's fast approaching.

The camera pans to the right to show my two best friends in the world, Shelby and Marcus. Natalie hands the microphone to Marcus and then returns to standing by Mom and Dad.

Marcus has a huge grin on his face. "Sammy, we've been together since we started going to school. I miss eating pizza with you and beating the pants off you at chess." He pauses. "Just kidding! You always beat me so bad. I wish we could eat a whole pepperoni pizza together right now, but I'll have to wait til you come back home, right? I won't eat another bite of pizza before I can do it with you. Promise."

Suddenly, Shelby takes the microphone from him. "Seriously? You're all just gonna put on a brave face and pretend everything is peachy-keen?"

Whoa! Shelby can get a little intense at times, but she looks downright mad now.

After looking around at everyone else, she continues. "I mean, we're all working our butts off trying to help Sam get home, and what happens? Nothing." She looks right at the camera, fire in her eyes. "Sam, your family won't say it, so I will. They've all taken second jobs and they're sending as much of their money as they can to the Capitol. They were promised that the money would go towards purchasing things to help you in the Games. They're going without eating some days to help you, and if you're watching this, I know you can see it." She gestures at my family again, just to make her point. "Even Marcus and I have been chipping in as much as we can…But those Capitol bastards are a bunch of fucking liars! That money should be going towards providing you with real food and medical supplies, not fat fucking rats!"

Finally, Sheila steps in. "Thank you Shelby. I'm sure the Capitol just needed your reminder that the money was ready to be used. It is the Capitol, after all, that provides all of this to them, and to us." Her smile remains steady, but her eyes speak caution to my friend. Shelby looks like she'll say more, but instead holds her tongue and nods.

I had no idea, no idea how much they were sacrificing for me. Am I worth it? Do I have what it takes to make it back home to them?

I feel tears gathering in my eyes, threatening to overwhelm me and drown me in a sea of inadequacy. But I stop and remember Shelby's words, and their intended purpose. She said those things for me, not anyone else, taking a huge risk in being so bold. My family and friends are sacrificing so much for me. There's no way I'm giving up without a fight. And after everyone else has mentioned my intelligence, I better live up to my reputation.

.

Aemillius "Del" Lewellyn, 17, District 5

I was pacing across the room, for hours it seemed like. Back and forth, over and over. I don't know why, but pacing helps me think. It helps lessen anxiety, keeps me sane in a way. Anytime I had the space while I was locked away in Mausoleum, I would pace. Even if there was nothing I could do to fix my situation, pacing calmed me. The consistent motion that kept my body occupied also kept my mind from straying into dangerous areas.

That's what kept me from losing it earlier. I knew we should strategize, plan out what would happen when the fighting started up again. I even recognized Sam trying to keep things light, keeping the jokes and the food coming. But after I was full to bursting, I started pacing. I couldn't argue, and I couldn't bring myself to just leave, so that was my only option.

Only then we were given the fifteen-minute warning, and after that Kale bolted. I was pacing away from him, towards the opposite side of the room, when I heard him rush to his feet. When he ran out, I had no idea what was going on, so I followed him. As soon as I stepped out, I realized it was an interview from his home of District 11. At that point, I figured if he was seeing his family's interview, Sam and I would probably see ours as well, so I turned around and stepped back through the doorway.

Now, I'm standing here watching Sam's family. She's so entranced that she doesn't even realize I've returned, but I'm here standing mere feet behind her and a little to the right. This is one of the most painful things I've endured in my entire life. Yes, I was tortured in Mausoleum, burned, drugged, waterboarded, you name it. In the end, all of that led to spilling information that ended the war, and now every rebel in Panem hates my guts for something they don't even understand. Just like Kale and Sam did before…before we got to know each other.

But this is a whole new level. Now I'm pained on behalf of someone else. Because Sam's family members were the only ones to visit me after the reaping, I saw them, I noticed their physical features. I see now, right away, that they've changed. Not as much as us, of course; we've been half starved in a battle to the death. But these last few weeks have changed them. For some reason, her mom and dad look exhausted. All of their facial features are just…narrower. If I had to guess, I would say they're eating less, for whatever reason. From what I can tell of their personalities, which isn't much since our meeting was so tragic, they all seem strained, like they're putting on a brave face in a bad situation. Totally understandable. Her friend Marcus is just over the top optimistic. But her other friend Shelby, well…she just confirms my observations left and right. Practically starving and working themselves to death, all so they can give Sam her best shot at survival…

I'd like to think that my family would have done the same if they were in the same situation, but, I just don't know. I don't even want to think about it because I'll start wondering where they are, whether they're even alive anymore. And the last thing I want is false hope, because well, let's just face it…False hope does nobody any good, especially not here, in the Hunger Games.

But, Sam must be feeling horrible. She's facing the stark reality of everything her family is sacrificing to give her a shot…I don't even know how Same feels she matches up to it. From my point of view, I'm not sure if any of us—Sam, Kale, or I—have a fair chance at winning. If I learned the same about my family, I would feel crushed under the weight of that pressure, the pressure of needing to give it my all to succeed, to feel worthy of that kind of sacrifice.

And before I even understand what I'm doing or why I'm doing it, I walk up behind her and put my hand on her shoulder. I guess I'm doing it to show that she's not alone, that I understand what she's going through. She tenses a little, no doubt surprised at my presence, but she doesn't shrug my hand away. She just turns to face me, tears running down her cheeks, pale green eyes shining.

My mind is scrambling for something to say, something that will give her a boost in this shitty situation, but I'm saved from doing so when I realize the interview is still airing. What specifically caught my attention was hearing my name.

"We've scoured all of Panem, trying to find members of Aemillius' family. From what we've gathered, his mother's family was originally from District 6. Because of his and his family's involvement with the rebels in the war, Capitol leadership has stepped in and blocked us from further investigation. However…" she pauses, seeming quite proud of herself. I hold my breath in anticipation as she continues. "Our reporter stationed in District 6 has informed us that he has found someone claiming to have some relation to Aemillius."

The video feed goes black for a moment, only to be replaced by an image that I assume is from District 6. This reporter is a dark-skinned man, dressed in a fancy blue suit. "Thank you, Sheila," he says in a rich, deep voice. "My name is Marshall Apex, and I'm here in District 6. In the course of interviewing for our District 6 tribute, Riri Kramer, I came across this gentleman, who claims to know Aemillius." He gestures as the camera pans to the left, revealing a plain-clothed man.

I stand where I am, frozen to the spot. My hand is still on Sam's shoulder, but I make no effort to move it. So many emotions rage through me that I can only stand and watch, unprepared for this sudden surprise.

"Please sir," Marshall continues. "Tell us a little about yourself, if you could." He hands the man his microphone.

The man takes it, clears his throat, and speaks into the microphone. "Well, my name is Quidel Boots. I'm a master carpenter here in District 6, and I just so happen to be Del's grandfather. We always called him 'Del.' My daughter and her husband gave him the middle name Quidel, in honor of myself, and we all thought that was easier to say than 'Ay-meal-us.' Anyway, I haven't seen him since, well…must'a been a few years before the war started. O'course, he barely came up to my belly button at that point. Looks much different now, handsome, grown-up.."

"Yes," Marshall interjects. "He must look quite different. What do you think about his performance in the Hunger Games so far?"

"Well now," he pauses, stroking his light gray beard. "Not much to say on that subject…since he was put into a competition not of his own volition. He might have done well if he had gone with that gal, Andromeda, but..then again, he's doing quite well for himself anyway."

"Yes. Being one of the last eight tributes is quite the achievement, which is why we're here. And, sir, what would you say to Aemillius right now, if you could talk to him face to face?"

At this point, he finally turns to the camera. "Don't you give up hope Del. I've not heard from your family since you moved away, but I haven't lost hope. Hope is like a rope, guiding you into the future. If you lose your grip on hope, you've got no stability, nothing to guide you on your course, nothing to give your life meaning. So, don't lose hope. Wherever they may be, your mom and your dad, they need you to hold on to hope, both for your sake and theirs." He closes his mouth, sets his lips with determination, nods his head, and hands the microphone back.

"Thank you, Quidel." Marshall concludes. "We're fortunate to have crossed paths. Back to you, Sheila."

Once again, the image fades and transitions back to Sheila in District 5. This time, however, we find her standing once again with Sam's family. I notice their demeanor has changed dramatically. Where before, they were reserved and optimistic, now they seem nervous and out of place.

"Thank you, Marshall," Sheila responds. "I'm here again with Samantha's family. When they found out that these interviews might possibly be aired for the individual tributes to view, Samantha's family requested the opportunity to send a message to Aemillius as well. Of course, we agreed." She turns to the family hesitantly, as if unsure how to proceed.

Surprisingly, it's Sam's mom who steps forward with a determined look. Her dad appears to be about to say something, but reluctantly stays where he is and says nothing. She's looking down at her feet and wringing something in her hands. It looks like a handkerchief, or a piece of some kind of cloth. When she looks up, her lips are pursed and her eyes are shining. After a moment, she speaks, softly at first, then gaining more confidence as she goes on.

"Aemillius, I'm so s..so…sorry no one showed up here to…support you. I hope they found someone you know in a another District." She pauses, picking over her words purposefully. "When we saw you after the reaping, I felt so bad that no one else had come to see you. We know because we were waiting out in the hall of the Justice Building for a long time to see Samantha. We asked you to take care and stay safe, and you have, both of you. But honestly," she stops, eyes shining with tears." We never expected either of you to be there still, because never did we think this nightmare would stretch for two whole weeks, or more. We thought…one way or another…it would be over quicker…"

This is the first time I've thought about how someone watching this might be feeling, after watching for two whole weeks. Like, waiting for news from the doctor for two weeks on whether a child would live or die. Surely, being here is a nightmare. But watching your children fight to the death, against other children? That's hell…

"Aemillius, I didn't know how to ask three weeks ago, but now I think I can. Please…whatever you can do to keep our Samantha safe, do it. As far as you're willing to go with her, go a little further. I know most wouldn't think it's right for me to ask this of you, and Samantha herself would be very angry with me for doing it. But we're doing as much as we can to see her through this and bring her…bring her back home to us. So please, Aemillius…Del…get her home safe…"

Her voice breaks on that last word, safe, like she almost can't even comprehend the concept of Sam returning home completely safe and sound. Tears are streaming down her face and dripping onto her dress as she drops the microphone and hurries away. The reporter bends down, picks it up, and concludes: "Thank you for that. This has been Sheila Ryder with your interviews from District 5. Good night, Panem!"

As the video fades and the wall returns to the same state as the others, I realize, yet again, that my hand is still somehow on Sam's shoulder. Only now, due to the recent stressful interviews, I'm grasping her tunic a little more in my hand. As she turns again to face me, her lips form a thin line, pursed together so tightly they almost disappear. Immediately I remove my hand and take a step backwards. From the look on her face, I can tell she's upset, angry even. It's probably not primarily directed at me, but I step back again just in case, both to give myself more warning and to continue surveying her.

She's gritting her teeth now as she works to speak in an intelligible manner. "Why…didn't you tell me…that My Family…came to see you after the reaping?"

"I..I thought about it," I pause, searching for the right words to defuse the situation. "That afternoon, on the train, when we were sitting there, assessing the other tributes. You mentioned your family when you saw them in the playback. I didn't know if you knew about their visit to me, so I didn't say anything. I didn't think it was such a big deal…"

"It is so a big deal!" She all but spits out. "You performed so well at the beginning, on the train…assessing me, pretending to be aloof…when all along, you were secretly helping me, keeping me safe, because…because my family told you to…" She pauses, irrational rage hampering her speech.

"No, Sam. That's not how it was. Your mom was right, what she said just now…And I thought exactly the same thing, that they had come to visit me to ask me to keep you safe. But all they really told me was to keep myself safe. I thought it was strange, so I didn't mention it."

"Fine, okay, just fine." She replies, seeming more exhausted now than angry. "But…she had no right…no right at all to ask you to…to keep me safe above everything else you do."

"Of course she did," I retort. "She had every right, as a mother, to ask me to do all in my power to keep you safe, to go further than I might otherwise. She made that choice. And likewise, I can make my own choice. I'm not obligated one way or the other to do anything other than what I choose to do."

"So then what are you going to choose?" She asks pointedly."…because, God knows I haven't been the greatest district partner in the world…making fun of you, making you feel uncomfortable for my own enjoyment, leaving you on your own in the arena without even trying to find you…you have every reason to just walk away, right now…"

"I do," I agree. "But, we're also district partners, and we have a stronger bond than any of the others in the arena because of it. I know there's still Andromeda and Chance, but they never did seem close." I pause, giving myself time to think, because, right now, I really don't know what I'll choose. "I know I really wanted to discuss this earlier, but now, in light of these interviews, we should wait, a little while longer, at least until we can talk with Kale. He's still part of this alliance. Maybe he'll have some insight"

"Ok, ok. We'll wait." Sam agrees. "But the clock's ticking, for real. We have a very limited amount of time before they expect fighting to resume. How long can we afford to wait?"

"Not long." We turn to see Kale standing in the doorway. There's a grim determination in his face, in the way he's standing there, and I'm not at all sure what it means.

"Guys," he continues, "We need to talk."

.

Riri Kramer, 15, District 6

Riri!

"Riri!" Mom's calling my name. It's dinner time, and as usual, I'm the last one because I've been playing down at the beach. As I reach the porch, I wipe the sand off of my feet on the welcome mat, thickly woven of sea-grass. I enter our small house through the front door and my nose is immediately greeted with two aromas wafting from the kitchen: freshly baked bread and grilled fish. I walk down the hallway past the staircase landing, and turn into the kitchen. My family is already sitting around the table, holding hands and waiting for me to arrive. I sit down in the spot they saved for me, between my brothers Percival and Irwyn, and take their hands. Father sits at the head of the table, Mother at the foot, and across the table are my other siblings: Seton, Neifien and Dyllon.

We all bow our heads. I'm waiting for Father to say the traditional prayers of thanks for the meal, but they don't come. I sit here listening to the waves crashing on the beach, just over the grassy hill. Though I've grown up listening to the steady rhythm of the waves, something about it seems unfamiliar. The rise and fall, the crash, somehow seems more pronounced, like a million clanging cymbals. As I'm thinking this, there's a nagging in the back of my mind. Something else about this doesn't feel right. It's like I don't belong here, but that's ridiculous. This is my family, and this is my home.

The silence is growing more and more uncomfortable. I think about peeking to see what's up with Father, but I know if I'm caught with my eyes open, I'll be punished. This thought also produces an uncomfortable feeling in me, even as I squeeze my eyes shut more tightly. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, my curiosity outweighs the warning in my head, and I slowly open my eyes all the way. As soon as I process my surroundings and make sense of what exactly I'm seeing, I wish I had never opened them.

I'm still sitting on a chair in our kitchen, or what's left of the kitchen. From my vantage point, our house is barely here. What's left is a burnt-out husk, a blackened skeleton, and I wonder how it's standing even as my mind continues to take in the rest of the scene. My family is also here, what remains of them anyway. Their bodies match the house, flesh mostly stripped away to reveal skeletons underneath, blackened beyond recognition. But I recognize them. I know it's still them, and I can only think of one thing that would explain my house and my family ending up in this condition….firebombs….The paralyzing horror of this thought is only doubled by the realization that my family, these skeletons, are all staring at me with their empty eye sockets….

Riri! It seems my mother is still yelling at me, her cries reaching me from beyond the grave….

"Riri!"

I awaken with a jolt, suddenly aware of reality. The afterimages from my dream still linger, but I push them away in order to make sense of what's going on. I look over and see Andromeda standing in the middle of the room, as close as she can get with the force field separating us. I assume it's her that yelled my name to wake me up, and she's probably been doing it for quite some time now.

"What do you want now?" I ask her sharply, my voice conveying all the annoyance I feel towards her.

"Turn around and look," she says calmly, but it's a different calm than before. It's almost like she's sad, and it's that observation that concerns me enough to whirl around and find out what's so important that she's been yelling my name loud enough for the whole labyrinth to hear.

I see my brother, Percival, and he's talking to someone on a video screen, standing in front of what appears to be a carpenter's shop. At first I don't understand what's going on, but then it hits me.

They said they were interviewing our families, friends and loved ones.

I hadn't even given it much thought. I assumed if I had so much trouble finding out if my family was still alive, how would anyone else be able to? And who would want to? Apparently the Capitol would. But I don't want to waste any more time speculating. My brother is talking.

"…wish Riri could understand why it happened, to know that they're in a better place now and we'll see them again, one day. And to know that I'm still here. I'm here for her, praying for her, sending positive thoughts her way, and that I hope with every ounce of my being that she makes it home. She's all I've got left…" Percival's crying now, shamelessly, in front of me, likely in front of all of Panem. I get the feeling I've missed something, and that feeling is confirmed when I see the reporter close the space in between them and wrap his arm around his shoulders. Shortly after that, he looks up and shakes his head at the camera, and the image goes dark.

"What?" I ask, unable to believe what I'm seeing. "That can't be the whole interview, can it?" I turn to face Andromeda. "What's going on?"

Her face actually registers something resembling sadness, or at least pity. "Riri…they had the interview. It was at least five minutes long, maybe more. You missed almost all of it.

My heart drops. I almost entirely missed seeing my brother. Was he the only one, or did I miss more? "What else did I miss? Who else did I miss? Could…could you tell me? Did you see it all?"

She's looking at me, studying me, a smirk on her face. "Do you really trust me enough to tell you the truth, to tell you everything you just missed? I mean, considering our situation…"

I hadn't thought of it that way. Our interactions have been all over the place over the last few hours. We were ready to kill one another, then she seemed genuinely concerned about my well-being. Now she's wondering how I could trust her, when all I came to do was kill her. I suppose it is a fair question. Do I trust her to tell me the truth? I only have to consider this for a moment before I've decided.

"Yes. If I trusted you enough to wake me up before killing me, I think I trust you enough to tell me what I missed of the interview. I can trust you, right?"

"Yeah, you can, in this anyway." She pauses, considering my face. "First, go drink some more water, use the little girls' room if you need to. Then come back and sit, and I'll fill you in."

I frown and turn away from her. Her strong suggestions make sense, so I follow them. After I return from down the hall and around the corner, I drink some more water, splashing some on my face. Then I come and sit on the floor, facing her as she is also sitting.

"I just have one question before you begin, then I won't interrupt, I promise." She nods. "What will happen if we're sitting here when fighting resumes? I mean…if we're still sitting here talking…"

She answers my unfinished question. "I get it. And like I said before, I don't want to fight you until I know we're both ready. And I think we both want to have this conversation finished before we get there. I guess we'll just have to trust the Capitol to let us be until we're ready." Her answer seems simple enough.

"Trust the Capitol? Is that even possible?" I ask dryly.

She rolls her eyes and ignores my comment. "I watched my own interviews. They interviewed two of my friends from District 2. When it was finished, I turned around and realized you were still sleeping. That's when I first yelled your name. I figured you wouldn't want to miss whatever the Capitol had to show you. I think they actually gave you a little more time before they aired it, but they weren't gonna wait forever."

She pauses, then continues. "Percival was the only one they found to interview. Apparently he had been trying to track you down for quite some time. After finding out you volunteered for the Games, he persuaded District 6 to allow him to move there."

She stops again and turns her head a little to regard me, expecting a question at this point. But I do what I said. I have a feeling I already know what she'll say next anyway.

"The reporter, Marshall, asked about his family, your family. After finding out that he was the only one remaining, he told your brother that he didn't have to talk about it anymore. But Percival…he insisted. He said that if you were really watching, that you deserved to know the truth. He explained that towards the end of the war, he, your parents, and your other older brother Irwyn, were involved in evacuating innocent people who had been caught up in all the fighting in District 4. Using stolen supply ships, they transported families along the coast to a safer location. He said someone must have leaked information, because on the third night of these evacuations, Capitol hoverships appeared from nowhere and began dropping bombs. Somehow, he was thrown from the explosion of his ship and washed ashore the next morning."

She stops now and looks at me reluctantly. This is the closest to a show of emotion that I've seen from her, and it's more than a little unsettling. But I'm missing something, something she hasn't explained yet. So I ask, because I want to know. I need to know.

"But…what about the others? What about…"

She continues, "Seton, Neifien and Dyllon, right? Your younger siblings? Those were their names?"

I close my mouth and nod. That's all I can do at this point.

"They stayed home. They wanted to be involved in the operation, but your parents wouldn't allow it. Percival…after he washed ashore, he walked back along the coast until he came to your house. But…it too, had been fire bombed during the night. He figured whoever had leaked information had also reported the location of their house, since they were in charge of the operation. And Riri.."

"Yeah?" I ask numbly.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry that you had to find out this way. I really did try to wake you up, but it seemed like you were having a hell of a dream. I wasn't sure I was ever going to get through to you, so I did my best to remember all the details of the interview. And Percival, he seemed like he was doing well in District 6. He said he was being set up as a carpenter journeyman, because of previous experience. He was living in the shop, and he seemed like he was eating enough, and mostly content, despite the circumstances that brought him there."

It's this information that shatters the numbness threatening to paralyze me. I realize that I've been preparing myself for this news for a long time. Ever since I started looking for them, asking for news about my family, I knew there was a chance I would learn the worst. But this isn't the worst. Percival escaped. Not only that, but he's in District 6, beginning a new life, a successful one. Hopefully, the Capitol will be satisfied by punishing me and will leave him alone, especially after all that he's been through.

Finally, after all this time, I can have a clear mind on this matter: I finally found out the truth about my family. I even got to see Percival and hear him talk, if only for a minute. Whatever happens next can't take that away from me, but my emotions are all mixed up, especially the ones concerning Andromeda. Is she really my enemy, the girl who showed this kindness to me?

"I know what you're thinking," she says, interrupting my thoughts. "I can read it all over your face. We could walk away, right now, leave what comes next up to fate. But, somehow, I don't think the Capitol will allow us to do that. And, remember Arc. Arc, right Riri? You had to kill him because he was planning on coming here to meet me. You killed your ally, your friend, because of me."

She's right. "You're right." I reply, slowly getting to my feet, once again filled with that determination. "Thank you for what you did for me, but that in no way makes up for your past actions. I won't leave here without avenging Arc."

"Now you're talking," Andromeda replies with a smile. She also stands. "Whenever you're ready."

"Whenever I'm ready? In case you forgot, there's a force f…" I point between us, but just now, I notice that the familiar hum is no longer present. I look more closely to affirm that, yes, the force field is in fact gone. "You knew?" I ask her incredulously.

"Yeah, I knew," she answers with a smirk. "It disappeared right after I started talking, when I said that Percival had moved to District 6."

I start laughing, because I can't help myself. I'm laughing to hide how seriously nervous I am. Nervous because it feels like she's playing with me, like a cat playing with a mouse before it snaps it up in its mouth. I continue laughing as I walk back over to the table where I had so foolishly left the pair of knives with which I should be armed. I turn around to confirm that, yes, she's already drawn her sword. From where, I actually have no idea.

"Whenever you're ready, Riri," she repeats.

Whenever I'm ready. How chivalrous…