Warning! Severe language in this chapter. Sorry! I don't like to use curse words, but felt the character just wouldn't be right without them.

Thank you so very much to Luke777, sghope16, and CJstoriesandobsessions for your reviews. You guys are so awesomely consistent, and I'm happy you have been enjoying the story from the beginning.

Chapter 11

I'm dead. I have to be dead.

As my eyes slowly open, I see blue above me. Maybe I'm flying. I look slightly to my right and see billowy white curtains. There is a gentle breeze and the fragrance of fresh roses. The familiar smell prompts a memory. Roses along with blood. My husband. The interviews. The blood all over my dress.

I sit up quickly and everything starts to spin. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. I feel pressure on my hand. Someone is squeezing it. I slowly open my eyes and see Valeria. She is standing next to the bed, holding onto my hand, tears sliding down her cheeks, a joyous smile on her face.

I'm in my bedroom. The windows are slightly open, letting in a warm breeze. The room has stopped spinning, thankfully. I look over at Valeria and give her an encouraging smile. She squeezes my hand one last time, hard, before stepping away. As she moves, I see another figure behind her close to a chair next to the door. Ian.

He takes a few tentative steps towards me. His eyes are bloodshot.

"You're awake," he said, his voice sounding hoarse. "How are you feeling?"

"Ok, I guess. What happened?" My throat feels dry. The words are hard to get out.

"A man in the box…he had a gun. He shot you."

"How long was I out?"

"A little over a week."

"What?" I asked loudly, getting too excited. The room starts to tilt sideways. I close my eyes for a second and take a deep breath. Ian is by my side now. He sits in the chair next to my bed, where Valeria has no doubt been sitting all week.

"The Hunger Games…" I said slowly.

Ian shakes his head. "It didn't go exactly as planned. We got Katniss and Finnick and a few others out. But Peeta and Johanna have been taken prisoner, along with a few people from the districts."

I lean my head back against the multitude of pillows against the headboard, trying to wrap my mind around the information.

"Analeigh, it's time to get you out of the Capitol. But Plutarch needs one more thing from you, if you are able," Ian said, his eyes full of concern. "If you can't, we'll just tell him that. Don't worry about…"

"I'll do it," I said, my voice stronger now. "Whatever he needs, I'll do it."

Ian sighs and runs his hand through his hair. He has more wrinkles around his eyes now, and peeks of gray are showing around his ears. "He needs you to find out where the prisoners are being held."

I inhale sharply. Prisoners are held in a very secret location in the sewers of the Capitol. The tunnels are dizzying, so much so that even maintenance workers who go down in them everyday get lost occasionally and are never heard from again.

"I will try, but I don't know if that's possible," I replied, my heart filling with regret. "Even if I find out exactly where they are, there's no guarantee that we could get them out safely. Those tunnels are a death trap."

Ian nods. "That's ok. Don't worry about it for now. You've already been through so much as it is. You should get some more rest." He gets up quickly and moves towards the exit. He may act like he's leaving, but I have no doubt he will not move from outside my door. Valeria gives me another smile. She pushes a few buttons on the remote next to my bed and a heaping plate of turkey legs and mashed potatoes pops up, my favorite. She motions toward the red button connected to the wall that sits next to me, and I know she is saying to push it if I need her. I smile and nod, and then she is gone, too. I eat eagerly, the smell of the food reminding me that I am very hungry. And I try to rest afterwards, but sleep does not come.

The sun sets over the horizon. It is stunning, hues of red and orange streak across the sky. I watch it from my window. Valeria comes in at least every hour. I can tell she's been terribly worried about me, and I am so very grateful for her and her loving nature. One person who has not been to visit me is my husband, although I am not very surprised.

I feel stronger and have been able to move around some in the last two days. At first the world went around in circles with every step, but it's gotten better as the day\ wore on. And it seems like I've eaten my weight in food. No doubt I was receiving supplemental nutrition while I was out, but there's something about warm food that melts in your mouth that helps awaken the body.

Valeria had motioned towards the bathroom earlier, asking if I wanted to shower, but I said no. I didn't really feel like it at the time, but now I do. I walk slowly and slightly hunched over. If I stand up completely, I can feel a twinge from where the bullet entered my back and came out through the front. It doesn't really hurt; it's more like a spasm that starts in that area and moves down my body. A doctor who comes in every day to check me over had promised that would go away soon. I hope his definition of soon and mine are the same.

As I pass my desk, I see all the letters from well-wishers around the Capitol that are accumulating. I haven't opened any of them. The last letter I read was from Ingris.

I start the water with no problem. It gets hot almost instantly, and steam starts to fill up the bathroom. The mirror is already fogging up as I start to take off my clothes, but I can still see the scar. I wipe the mirror off with a towel and study it again. It's only a few centimeters across on the left side of my lower abdomen. The doctor said the bullet hit my kidney, but thankfully it missed my liver. He also told me they had to do three blood transfusions and worked for hours to save me, but that it could have been a lot worse. He had seen the video, and the shooter was off-balance when he shot because a peacekeeper was tackling him. Originally the shooter was aiming at my head.

I couldn't help but smile when he told me this. Although I understood the seriousness, I knew that peacekeeper was Ian, no doubt flying across several chairs and people to take down the man with the gun, trying to protect me. The shooter was now dead. He was convicted and executed within a matter of days.

I am still staring at the scar. Obviously, I know there are procedures to get rid of it, and at first my reaction was disgust at the ugly mark on my otherwise pristine skin. But the more I look at it, the more I like it. It is a battle scar, one that I have earned. I only hope that Coriolanus has not planned anything else for me. The shooter had not been connected to him in any way, of course, but we all knew better. My husband couldn't figure out a way to get rid of me privately, so he decided to do it publicly and make a spectacle of it. So bad for him that I didn't die.

I finally climb in the shower after the mirror completely fogs up again. I just stand there for the longest time, letting the hot water splash over me. I push a button and lavender fills the air. I inhale deeply, feeling its relaxing effects. When I step out, my eyes are heavy, and I am looking forward to climbing in my big bed and getting some good rest. I towel dry my hair quickly and climb into my silk pajamas.

I open the door and steam follows me out. Valeria must have come in while I was in the shower and turned down my bed. The sheets look so inviting. But something to my right catches my eye. I turn and am shocked to see Orli, leaning against my bedroom door, smoking a cigarette.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, feeling very exposed in only my nightgown. I cross my arms over my chest to make me look very angry and also provide me more coverage.

"Where is Ian?"

Orli tilts his head back, letting smoke out slowly. He grins slightly, seemingly pleased to see me so uncomfortable. "Ian had to go take a piss, just like any other regular guy. He asked me to keep an eye on you until he got back."

"He could have used my bathroom."

"Yes, well, that would have been awfully hard with you taking the longest damn shower on record."

His frame was almost bigger than the door's. He probably used to be a handsome man, but the years of smoking and drinking have taken their toll. His gut now folds over his pants, and his face sags wearily.

"You haven't answered my other question. What are you doing here?" My eyes flick over to the red button used to call for Valeria whenever I need her. Orli seems to see it, too, and steps farther into my room, standing between the door and my bed, partially blocking my path to either.

"I'm here to help you." There's that seedy grin again. He takes another puff on his stupid cigarette.

"How can you help me?" I'm getting more angry and less afraid. If he was here to hurt me, he would have done it by now. Every minute that passes by is another minute that Ian will be back. "And put out that cigarette."

Orli glares at me out of the corner of his eyes, but he takes one last long inhale before throwing it on the carpet and stomping it out. It leaves a black mark on my fluffy tan rug.

"I have the information everybody wants to know." A big grin this time, showing off yellowed teeth and darkening gums. He pauses, appearing to wait for me to respond.

"And what is that?" I asked slowly.

"I know where the prisoners are."

I take a deep breath. Could he really know where they are? Ian and I have been poring over detailed drawings of the tunnels, trying to figure out a place where they might be, but it has been no use. I had almost given up hope.

"Why should I trust you?" I asked suspiciously, narrowing my eyes.

Orli laughs. "Because you ain't got no other choice, honey."

"And what do you want in return? Money? A ride out of here?"

"You really don't know anything, do you?" Orli shakes his head at me. I resent the comment but let him continue. "I've been doing your husband's dirty work for over twenty damn years. Why do you think I'm the only bodyguard of his that's lasted this long? It's because I keep my fucking mouth shut and do fucking good work, you see?"

"So why turn on him now?"

"Because I have to look at you every damn day."

"What do you mean by that?"

Orli is looking at the floor, but his eyes are softer. "It was me, Mrs. Snow. It was me who killed your family. I went in with two other guys. We shot them all in the head and then set the fire."

The next thing I remember is Ian pulling me off Orli. His face was scratched and bloodied, but he didn't fight back. I was still screaming and kicking. It took two hours for me to calm down, but afterwards, I finally saw the Orli that Ian had seen all along. A man wracked with guilt over having done terrible things to innocent people. And we talked all night about the best way to rescue the prisoners and make things right.