Elowen twirls the white string between her index finger and thumb, then threads it through the needle with steady hands. Carefully, she begins to stitch together the tattered shirt spread out on her desk, movements meticulous and robotic, her muscle memory guiding her hands through the fabric.
On Elowen's bed, sits her older sister Monroe, a plain white t-shirt hastily thrown on to replace the button-up that was now being operated on. Being the best role model possible, Monroe had crept into their shared bedroom window to hide the state of her clothes from their father, then promptly begged her to fix it before anybody else found out. Being the best little sister, Elowen begrudgingly agreed.
Over her work, Elowen glares at her sister for making her do this in such a rush. They both were very, very aware of the presence down the hall and of their obligation to show face.
"What did you guys even do?" She finally asks, flitting her eyes back down to her work.
Monroe leans forward, her arms resting on her knees, one of which was bouncing nervously. She doesn't respond for a few moments. "Ivo and I were in the woods again. I got caught on some branches. That's all."
"That's all?" Elowen echoes, crumpling the shirt in her hands while she redirects her attention fully to her flighty sister. "But what were you guys doing?"
Sensing Monroe's hesitation, she quickly adds on, "I don't have to tell Dad if you don't want me to."
That seems to work her out of her shell. After her work at the papermill, Monroe always hung out with her boyfriend Ivo, and the two of them would cause ruckus all across the northern District Seven villages. However, lately she would return home with her tail between her legs, asking Elowen for relationship advice she wasn't certified to give. It was happening more frequently, and it was growing a little concerning.
Monroe purses her lips. "He was trying to take me towards the villages west of here… um, I-I don't remember what they're called. But I told him I couldn't today because…" she gestures out the door, and Elowen nods in understanding. "And he got mad and started to say I wasn't… good for anything, and that I was useless and he hated me. So I ran away." She scratches the back of her neck, looking as if she wanted to duck beneath the covers and never arise again.
What an asshole. But Elowen doesn't really know what to do with that information she specifically dug out. She instead searches her desk for some loose buttons, fishing one out nearly identical to the intact ones still on the shirt. "Do you want my advice?" She asks, beginning to thread the button onto where the old one used to be, "I think you should stand up for yourself. Then if he keeps saying that stuff to you, break up with him."
Monroe nods, but scrunches her face as if she didn't fully agree with that plan. "Okay."
"Okay." Elowen stands, unfurling the repaired shirt and throwing it at her sister. "Tomorrow, after the reaping, you confront him. I'll go with you, if you want me to."
Monroe changes back into the shirt in a hurry, nearly splitting open the seams again in her haste. "Thank you, El."
Elowen nods, and the two of them exit the bedroom, pausing just to make sure Monroe still looked presentable after her quarrel. With a few fingers combed through her hair, she was fine. They both looked very similar, long-legged, brown-skinned girls with dark, curly hair. But outside of their appearances, Elowen thinks they have very little else in common. In her opinion, she should've been the older sister; she was so much more mature. One day though, she figures the two-year age gap between them won't be as noticeable as they outgrow their youth.
Upon walking into the dining room, the two people look up from their hushed conversation. Their father, Clementine, pipes up first, "Well, speaking of the devil, here's my daughters now."
They file into the two empty seats as Monroe laughs, "You guys were talking about us?"
"Mhm." Clem flicks his fork at Elowen, who had taken the spot next to him. "Just telling Wolf here about how your sister's been taking that apprenticeship."
Elowen takes a deep breath in, finally making eye contact with the man sitting at the other side of the dining table. Wolf is District Seven's current mayor, and has been for the last twenty or so years. With her father's occupation of overseeing lumber production and making sure quotas were met, the two have had to work in close relations to keep up-to-date with the Capitol's latest demands. Despite having known him for her entire life from occasional dinners, such as right now, Elowen can't ever help but still feel unnerved under his intense gaze.
Wolf is a tall man, much taller than her father, with an angular face and lanky limbs. He reminded her of an upright tree in that way, like branches wildly grown into a trunk, with wrinkles like grooves. His dark hair was streaked with white, yet despite his apparent age, he still held himself just as a spry twenty year old would. He was scary looking. He never seemed to stop smiling, even if it was just a quirk of his lips.
Then he turns that smiles at her. "That's a very big feat, Elowen. You hardly see any healers around here anymore, not since all those hospitals shut down some decades ago. Now, everybody's either wasting away in factories or beating themselves limp against trees, with nobody to aid them. I can respect your trade."
Elowen tries to return the smile, but just ends up bashfully ducking her head. "Thank you, sir."
"I'd assume everything is going well?" He continues, "Bryony is very gifted with medicine."
"It's going good," she replies. She quite liked her teacher, actually. Bryony was a perfect level of engaged but not hounding, always willing to talk but respected the quieter days. "I'm making a lot of progress so far."
"Keep that up. At this rate you'll be the best in the District in some years," Wolf says, flicking a finger her direction, his hand encompassing a glass Elowen figured was filled with something she wasn't permitted to even touch. She could smell it on his breath even from where she sat. "You'll be the one everybody goes to for your services."
"Thank you," she repeats, then turns her eyes towards her plate, trying to avoid looking at anybody else around the table. Praise was embarrassing.
But out of the corner of her eye, Elowen can see her father casting glances at Monroe and her shirt, with the slightly off-colored lace holding it together. As the adults resume their conversation, she casts her older sister a look. It starts occurring to them far too late that Monroe never actually walked through the front door — just through their window in the back.
Dinner continues on as these kinds typically did, with Wolf and Clem saying words that soared far past Elowen's head. Even when her father would try to explain his area of work, it always went in one of her ears and out of the other. Too many words and numbers and statistics, she much preferred to be hands-on. So, she pays little mind to the topic and busies herself with eating.
Several minutes pass before Clem stands and announces, "Wolf and I are going to chat on the back porch. Do you two mind picking up tonight?"
They shake their heads no, they don't mind, feigning politeness in front of the guest, and Clem smiles gratefully at them. The two of them make their way to the backdoor and exit swiftly, leaving Monroe to jump to her feet the second it clicks shut behind them.
"He knows!" She declares, frantically gathering all the dishes on stacked plates, then charging across the room to deposit them into the sink. "He knows I was out again!"
Elowen shakes her head. "There's no possible way he could know."
Monroe spins around to face her. "Yes! You saw it, he noticed my shirt." She feels at the repaired line across her top, as if smoothing it out would make it go away. A sixteen-year-old's sewing hobby was nothing in quality compared to works of actual seamstresses.
"Well, I don't think he cares much," Elowen responds, collecting the silverware and entering the kitchen. "There's too many things going on right now. With the mayor here and the reaping tomorrow, who cares about what you're up to?" She tosses the forks into the sink, which clatters against the plates.
Monroe swallows hard then shakes her head, hugging herself. "I don't know. That's.. that's the thing though. There's so much going on right now I don't need this right now. You understand, right?"
When Elowen nods, she continues. "There's just so much happening, I can't take anything new. With work and Ivo and…" she trails off. There's a brief moment of silence, then Monroe speaks again. "I guess I'm just anxious. Sorry."
Elowen frowns. She hated seeing her sister upset like this, with stress clearly embedded in her expression. Normally, she seemed so happy-go-lucky, always seeing the best in whatever faced her. Even when things got tough, it was always Monroe who would light up a gloomy room.
"Well, I suppose everybody's last reaping is their worst," Elowen murmurs, trying to keep her tone nonchalant, "But if you just get through this one tomorrow, you're done for the rest of your life. Then you can talk things through with Ivo and it'll be two things off your plate."
"Yeah," Monroe responds, "I suppose so."
"Mhm. We should pick up, then. One thing at a time."
The two of them get to work on straightening up, washing the dishes and putting them away, then swiping a wet rag across the wooden counters to dig up any stains. They work quietly, falling into their regular routine. By the time the room is back in array, the sun hovers on the cusps of dusk, sending long shadows trailing across the freshly swept floor. In the golden light, dust twists around in the air.
Elowen swipes her damp hands across her pants, not really caring much due to the fact it was just water. As night approaches, a chill falls on the world, the wind howling noisily against the creaking structure. The sisters cross towards the stone fireplace against the wall and, with the help of scraps of twigs and the lighter, start a fire in its hollow. Elowen holds her damp fingers near the grate, trying to dry them off before the cold seeped into her bones.
The only sound is the snapping of the fire, until the backdoor clicks open, letting in a harsh wind as the two men reenter the household.
Instantly, Wolf crosses the house with little hesitation, his boots cracking against the wooden floors. He collects his coat and slips it over his shoulders, Clem's narrowed eyes boring unknowingly into his back while he adjusts his collar. Elowen notices her father's hostility almost instantly, the way his jaw was set tight and his stance with arms crossed on his chest, and the way Wolf saw himself to the door without any further dawdling. Clearly, he wasn't welcome here anymore.
The mayor turns to the girls, who were watching him by the fire. "I look forward to seeing you two at the reaping tomorrow," Wolf says, his hand hovering above the door handle. Elowen narrows her eyes at him. What happened out there? She thought this was business related. If the Capital was pulling bullshit again, Clem wasn't the kind of guy to shoot the messenger for delivering the message.
Without another word, Wolf tugs open the door and slams it behind his departure. With the threat out of the house, Clem seems to relax; his shoulders lose their tension and slump, leaving him looking defeated. Nobody dared to say a word as he grabs the half empty bottle of alcohol left on the counter (Elowen didn't want to touch it) and takes a slow sip, gazing thoughtfully down the hall. He twists his lips around his teeth. From behind, the fire cracks.
Anticipation falls heavily on the trio, and Elowen's heart grows weightless with nerves, but her questions knot in the back of her throat and she can't find it within her to speak it. Something in his expression shot down the words before she could even begin to taste them, so they remained buzzing in her mind, forming enough what-if's to last until sunrise.
Eventually, Clem penetrates the thick silence, his voice making Elowen flinch, "Why don't you both go to bed? There's a busy day ahead of us," He says, phrasing it nicely like an offer, but she knows it would be a kindness for everyone. Besides, she didn't think she would be able to stay in the stiff living room air for any longer. Right now, her bed sounded much, much better than here, stewing in the unknown and the consequences of the sudden shift.
Willingly, she brings herself to her feet and abandons the fire.