The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the marble floors of my office. Outside, the Capitol gleamed with its artificial perfection, but inside, my thoughts were anything but orderly. I had ruled for decades, built my life on control, precision, and the eradication of weakness. Yet here I sat, holding a thin manila folder that threatened to unravel everything.

Emerald Arora. Twice victor. A woman of extraordinary skill, defiance, and charisma. She was no ordinary tribute—and now, it seemed, she was no ordinary victor either.

The DNA results stared back at me, immutable. Her blood was mine.

The revelation sent me spiraling into memories I had buried long ago, back to a time when I was still just a young man, learning how to wield power with cunning rather than brute force. Back to her.

Lucy Gray Baird.

Even after all these years, her name conjured a pang of something I dared not call regret. She had been unlike anyone I had ever known—vibrant, untamed, and entirely unwilling to be boxed into the Capitol's games. We had shared a complicated, tumultuous connection. For a time, she had even seemed to see through me, challenging the man I was becoming.

I thought I'd left her behind when I rose to power. After her disappearance from the Capitol following the chaos of the Tenth Hunger Games, I hadn't given her another thought. Her survival had seemed impossible, her story a cautionary tale about the dangers of rebellion.

But she had survived.

And somehow, she had borne my child.

The pieces began to click into place with horrifying clarity.

Emerald Arora's uncanny abilities, her unyielding spirit, her startling resemblance to Lucy in her moments of fury or defiance—it was all there, but I had been too blind to see it.

I closed the folder, my hands steady despite the storm raging within me.

This changes everything.

Emerald's survival in the Seventy-First Hunger Games should have been a fluke. I had assumed her enhanced physical abilities were merely an anomaly, the result of natural strength or training. But now, I understood: it was legacy. My legacy.

And worse, Lucy Gray's legacy.

I rose from my chair and moved to the massive window overlooking the city. The Capitol was still buzzing with celebration after the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games. The citizens loved a good show, and Katniss, Peeta, and Emerald had provided one.

Emerald. My daughter.

A daughter who could destroy me.

My grip tightened behind my back. If word of this ever reached the districts—or worse, the Capitol—I would be undone. The rebellion would twist this revelation into a weapon, a symbol of my hypocrisy.

And yet, I couldn't simply eliminate her. Emerald had survived two Games. Twice she had defied the odds, winning over both the districts and the Capitol. If I acted rashly, I risked creating a martyr.

But I could contain her.

The thought steadied me. I still held the reins of power, and Emerald was but one piece on the board. She might be my blood, but she was not my equal.

I turned back to my desk, pressing a button on the intercom. "Summon Dr. Gaul's successor," I ordered. "And have the archives team retrieve everything we have on Lucy Gray Baird."

"Yes, President Snow," came the swift reply.

As the intercom clicked off, I allowed myself a brief moment to sit back and think. Lucy Gray had always been a danger—chaotic, uncontrollable. If Emerald was anything like her mother, she would be equally volatile. But now, I had the benefit of foresight.

I would use Emerald, mold her, and if necessary, I would destroy her.

Because no matter whose blood ran through her veins, the Capitol would always come first.

And I would not lose. Not to Lucy Gray's ghost, and not to my daughter.