Clay slowly withdraws himself as we walk back to the riverbank; I watch as the typically bright and energetic boy seems to lose his shine.

Sienna glances nervously at me as we walk through the barren orchard. "I've never seen him like this," she whispers. Ahead of us, Damien points out a squirrel as it climbs a nearby tree, but Clay barely acknowledges it.

"Well, he just saw someone die," I reason. "I wouldn't be feeling great either."

I shudder at the memory of Damien stabbing the boy this morning. I'm thankful now that I looked away, but the sound of his screams has echoed in my mind all day.

After a few hours, we return to our old campsite. Clay drops his bag, retreating to sit silently by the rushing river.

"Let's try and get some fish," Damien calls, glancing through the trees at his friend. Clay doesn't respond.

"I'll come," I say, following Damien upriver. I glance back at Sienna, who gives me a nod. Hopefully, she can bring Clay back to his senses.

"I don't what Clay's problem is," Damien says, passing me his bag as he rolls the legs of his pants up. "We were bound to come across someone eventually. I mean, what did he think was going to happen?"

"You didn't need to kill him, Damien," I tell my brother as he begins to wade into the river. "You could've just left him for the Careers."

"Everyone is going to die in here, okay?" Damien says defensively, raising his voice over the noise of the river. "Do you want to spend a month in here? If nobody wants to do the killing then we'll be in here forever."

"Obviously," I sigh. I know this argument is pointless. "What about Christina, though? What is she going to think when she sees you doing all of this?"

"Don't," Damien warns, pointing his makeshift spear in my direction. "Don't bring my family into this, Luna."

"Well, I'm your family," I say, leaning closer to the edge of the river. "And what about Amala? Do you want your daughter to think you're a killer?"

"Shut up!" Damien snaps. "Just shut up! Don't you dare bring up my daughter again, Luna. You've crossed the line."

Damien's words transport me back to when we were first Reaped, back when I thought that there was nothing I could do to get him to believe in me. Back when all Damien did was yell at me and all I did was let him. I push those feelings back, though. This is for Damien's own good; he needs to hear this.

"I'm just trying to prove a point," I call to Damien's turned back. "We all know this is a game of survival, but don't push yourself to a point that you can't return from. We have to think about the people who are outside of this Arena, not just the ones who are in here."

Damien stabs down at the water, lifting up a writhing fish from the frothy waters. He rushes to the riverbank, throwing the fish onto the moss at my feet before it has a chance to escape back into the water. I quickly wrap my arms around the fish, holding it tight as it struggles against me.

"You're right," Damien says quietly, lifting himself out of the river. "I know you're right. You don't understand, though. You and Sienna just get to sit back and look at plants all day while Clay and I have to actually worry about if we're all going to live to see tomorrow. At this point, I don't care what I have to do to get out of here, but whatever it is, I'll do it. I don't know if Clay feels the same way anymore."

I pass Damien his fish as we walk back to camp. Sienna waves at us as we arrive; through the trees, I can see that Clay is still where we left him by the river. Sienna's attempts to cheer him up must have failed.

"We have dinner," Damien calls to Clay. "Come and get it."

Clay silently approaches, sitting across from us as we rip the fish apart. I wish more than anything that we could cook the fish tonight, but a fire could give us away. Luckily, fish can be eaten raw, so we waste no time in ripping the scales and bones away from the delicious meat and digging in.

"Feeling any better?" I ask Clay as he nibbles at his small piece.

Clay just sighs. "It's whatever," he says, shaking his head. "We shouldn't have done it, but we did, and it's over. That's all."

"Well, hold on," Damien says, putting his fish down for a moment. "Why shouldn't we have done it? Should we have just left that boy in here and had fourteen of us still in here? Would you rather we just be worse off just because we didn't want to get rid of one kid? If we're not willing to kill, we are never going to get out of here, Clay."

"That's not what I'm saying," Clay spits, a fire returning to his eyes. "That kid wasn't going to hurt us. Honestly, he probably would have died soon just from starvation anyway. We stooped to the level of the Careers today. The boy didn't deserve to die and we killed him."

"Oh, because we improved our own chances of making it out of here?" Damien says with a mocking laugh. "That doesn't sound like stooping to me."

Clay opens his mouth to respond, but he doesn't get the chance. Our group is once again bathed in red, and the silence of night cuts our conversation short.

For the third time since we entered the Arena, white light shines down on us from the sky. This time, all of my allies sit around me, staring at the ground. I look up to the sky; somehow I feel like I have to. We killed this boy, and the least we can do is see his face one last time and recognize what we all did to him today.

The ceremony is short. The words "THE FALLEN" appear first, and then the boy from Twelve appears. As he fades away, I try and let my memory of everything that happened today fade with him. I hope that tomorrow I can wake up and realize that all of this was a dream, that my brother isn't a killer. If only.