My m0uth drops open. I am stunned. I didn't see this coming-how could I have? I'm Allison's almost identical twin-it would take quite an observant person to notice the difference between our eyes.
I know who you are. Azlyn.
I quickly stuff the note in my pocket and put the bracelet daintily on my wrist just as the door creaks open, revealing the only two surviving District 10 victors, Melody Notter, victor of the 87th Hunger Games when she was 15, and James Kramer, victor of the 90th Hunger Games 9 years ago. No one from the infamous Quarter Quell-there aren't anymore Quarter Quells now. Whenever they feel like giving us extra punishment is when it comes.
It's those stupid District 12 victors. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. I can't believe that they weren't killed, but they're alive-and I think I heard they have kids.
Melody is a fun person. She's 27 now, and hasn't succumbed to alcohol or morphling. Her dark honey blonde hair is pulled back loose and crimped, and her eyes are a lovely golden color, technically hazel but they look yellow like wheat. James, however, is a different story. He was 18 when he won, so he's 27 as well, but he won rebelling. They killed everyone-his sisters Lacey and Karma, his ma and pa, and his pretty little girlfriend Leila. He actually paid someone in District…2, I think, to put morphling into gum, so that he never has to face the pain. He was a looker when he won his games-dark hair that fell into his eyes, those homely brown eyes that are now foggy and absent. But now he looks like he's in his 30's.
These are the people who now have my life in there hands. I'm screwed.
The Duncan kid trails behind them and meets my eyes. His eyes are hazel, tinted with green. I should give him a reassuring smile, but I don't. That's not me-and it won't take long for my fellow tribute to figure out I'm not Allison.
I walk behind the mentors and Duncan, keeping my eyes ahead, trying to keep them steady and empty. Then, before I know it, we're at a table, eating dinner.
"So, Allison, what do you like to do?" Mel-as I kind of recall her asking us to call her-asks. "Allison?"
It takes me a minute to register she's talking to me. What does my twin like to do? It's amazing how unobservant I'm just now realizing I've become since my father's capture.
I open my mouth, and then close it, thinking hard. That's when any chance Duncan had of being my ally goes out the window.
"Who are you talking to? That's Azlyn, not Allison. Allison has brown eyes."
Well, crap.