"Congratulations, Robyn," President Snow murmured, placing a golden, intricate tiara on my head.

I didn't meet his frosty gaze. "Thank you."

"Just be warned," Snow hissed. "Your actions in the arena will never be forgotten."

I glared into his harsh, snake-like eyes. "I expected so much, President Snow."

After my interview with Caesar, I felt completely drained of energy. I was a poor actress; I barely made it through my interview without displaying my hate of the Capitol.

When I returned to my Capitol suite, I found an old, dusty sketch-book I'd brought with me from District 8.

A wave of determination passed over me as I got an idea.

I raced to the elevator and shifted impatiently as it slowly descended. Once I'd reached the main foyer, I sprinted outside into the busy streets and found a newspaper kiosk.

"Sir, I need every issue that has been released in the past week, please," I explained hurriedly, forcing myself to remember my manners.

The gruff, bearded man rummaged through a large box until he produced a thick wad of newspapers.

"Thank you!" I gasped, clutching them too my chest.

"You're gonna have to pay for those," the man grumbled.

I plastered a sweet smile across my face. "Actually, I don't. Don't you recognize me? My victory has been the talk recently. Charge the President, I'm sure he won't mind!"

I knew I was being deliberately insolent, but at that moment, I couldn't care less. Before the man could reply, I charged back to the hotel and returned to my suite.

Breathless but unable to wait, I flicked through the newspapers at a rapid pace.

Whenever I came across a photograph of one of my fellow tributes, I neatly cut it out with scissors.

A couple of hours later, my escort, Petunia, rapped delicately at my door.

"Robyn, may I come in?" she called.

I smiled. "Sure, I have something to show you, anyway."

.

Petunia left my suite distressed and horrified, but I didn't care. I had to remember. I swore to myself I would never forget.

Using my sketch-book, I'd created a tribute to the tributes. Their photographs flooded the pages, and I'd took the time to write them a paragraph each, even the ones I'd never known. I wanted to remember them and keep them close to my heart. I knew I would be eternally haunted by nightmares, especially losing Dallas and watching Ace and Crystal's final moments.

I also swore that the Capitol would pay. They would pay for this. I would avenge the fallen, I would right all the wrongs the Capitol had committed, but I had no idea how.

Oh, well. For now, I could only hope. Cling to last piece of hope I had within me, that we would get our revenge. Together, with the knowledge that the fallen tributes souls will be with me, I will find a way to bring down the Capitol.