Chapter 62: The Girl in Blue

"Seraphine Reza." Creon repeated her name.

His pitiful voice was accompanied by a storm of whispers, commenting on how pitiful she was but among the whispers, she could hear the shrill cries of her only sister and protests from her brother who was tackled to the ground by a few Peacekeepers.

"NO! NO! PLEASE, NOT HER AGAIN!" Her brother was taken to the side, away from the cameras. "PLEASE! PL-PLEASE NOT SERAPHINE!"

But his screams and cries could still be heard even when he'd been taken aside. His artificial limb fell into his hands as the Peacekeepers shoved him to the side. His cries turned silent but tears still fell from his face like a waterfall that she couldn't look at.

She did expect laughter too, accompanying the crying but there was none. None from Ira's sisters or her friends. None from Eugene's brother, Maxim.

Tears were streaming down Maxim's red face. He looked so much like Eugene that it terrified Sera. His tears made her recall Eugene's attempts to strangle her in her sleep. He was crying back then just like his younger brother.

But Maxim wasn't crying because he'd decided to kill his only partner for the games. He'd never been inside the arena, spared due to Zephyr's generosity. A gesture that he'd spend his entire life repaying.

Maxim covered his mouth with his hand and turned away from her. He was crying like the Capitol had just returned Eugene as a corpse. He was crying like he was watching his brother die for the second time.

Crying not laughing.

Sera sucked in a breath and plastered a sickly sweet smile on her face as if she was so damned honored for the opportunity to die for the entertainment of millions.

Her tired silver eyes scanned the crowd. Her focus was on her family. She was etching their faces in her mind.

She tried to remember her home, where she'd grown up.

The concrete stacked cube she'd once called home with faded painted walls. The rusty metal stairs with the handle were covered in scrap fabric of old clothes and bedsheets. Broken glass windows that were barely covered by the moth-eaten curtains. She tried to remember the last time she went home.

She tried to remember the lake where her family picnicked, the grass, the pebbled path, and the tall trees covering the path like curtains. She tried to picture it in her head as she took slow steps forward.

She tried to remember the vast sunflower fields she'd see on the way to school when she was still healthy. The tall yellow flowers faced the sun, worshiping it while solar panels hid in between.

The mountains that painted the skies of Five. The rivers that ran through Five, even if they were tainted, were still the prettiest thing anyone would see with flowers and weeds growing at the banks.

The Slog. The Hollow. The Lux. The Justice Building and Foxhalo. She tried to etch every piece of District 5 into her brain for the last time. There was no way she was coming home after this. She knew her odds were not high.

She wished she was fourteen again. At least, all she would feel would be nothing.

Creon tried to reach out to her for a comforting pat. Sera moved out of his way, refusing his gesture and touch. If she was going to die, why would she play their games? What was the point of playing nice and kind when that got her nothing?

Snow didn't exempt her.

Plutarch didn't tell her about the games.

She was on her own. Her insides were boiling. Even the poison in her veins didn't hurt this much.

But she should've expected it. Plutarch was the Head Gamemaker. It was his job to play with people and she wasn't that different, still, it stung being kept in the dark.

She only prayed that Finnick stayed out of the arena. She couldn't even imagine seeing him in there with her, knowing she'd have to say goodbye to him like that.

"Um…" Creon cleared his throat and tried to laugh off the awkward gesture. "Ladies and…gentlemen, I give you your second tribute for the 75th Hunger Games, Seraphine Reza."

More pitiful gazes and horrified words were reflected from the crowd. If Sera didn't know any better, she'd think the people of District 5 were attending her funeral.

They were mourning her like they did when her name was first called out during the 68th games, writing her off as already dead and gone because she was unfortunate enough to get picked.

She couldn't keep a blank face like she did in the past. She knew her eyes were dead as a corpse but her lips painted a bitter smile on her face. What was the point? She was tired.

"No cheers," Creon mumbled into the mic. "Tough crowd." He gripped the mic stand tightly. "I don't blame them." He said away from the mic but Sera caught his words.

Of course, he pitied her too and she was sick of it all.

"Seraphine," He turned to her and tried to direct her to take her place. "Would you like to…say a few words." He all but shoved the mic to her face.

Her head was blank and she didn't want to speak. What would she say? Tell everyone in the Capitol to go and die? There was nothing to be lost and nothing to be gained but when she looked at the crowd, her family's faces were all she could see.

'Right. I still have a lot to lose.'

"I'd like to thank the Capitol." The words spilled out of her mouth before she could even think of something decent to say. "For everything they've done for me." She smiled, a hollow thin smile that didn't reach her sharp silvery-gray eyes. "I'll remember it all and keep it with me. Thank you."

A calm and almost rehearsed response that she didn't even think of ended up rolling out her tongue. At least, it was decent enough to be considered polite.

But anyone who was listening could tell that she wasn't being polite at all. Her words were bitter, she was bitter and she hated everything and everyone at that moment.

"That's all." She said and backed off from the mic stand, going back to join Wells.

"Well, I guess we can move on to volunteers—I left it for the end because I thought we could do volunteers for both bo–men and women together." Creon stuttered out, shuffling his cue cards out of order, looking around the stage at each of the victors. "Men first. Any volunteers?"

Neither Huxley nor Zephyr stepped forward. Huxley had just stared at her, ignoring the escort altogether. His jaw tightened and he moved a step forward like he would rush towards her and get her off the stage.

While Zephyr, on the other hand, made his presence small. Zephyr had already volunteered once and once was all he could do. He didn't even look up when Creon called out for volunteers. Sera did catch a glimpse of tears rolling down his face.

Those were for her, weren't they?

"No volunteers from the gentlemen." Creon didn't have to say it but he did.

Wells shrugged in response. He didn't expect any volunteers in the first place. He didn't want any.

"Moving on then." Creon rubbed his hands together and turned to Estelle and Leora.

Estelle hid her face from the cameras and her crying children. Creon kept his eyes on her and Leora, turning around swiftly to face the cameras.

"Ladies, any volunteers?"

Neither of them moved and Sera sighed, her head bowed. She didn't expect them to throw her life away from her so that was expected.

Sera resigned herself to another game and her mind started to think about each possible scenario for the arena.

Plutarch didn't tell her what the arena would be like but he did pull Zephyr aside more often before they'd left. He showed an interest in his pocket watch and asked him about clocks.

Maybe the arena had something to do with time?

Or maybe it was—

"I volunteer!" Leora's clear voice was the loudest she'd heard her speak. "I volunteer as tribute for the 75th Hunger Games."

A wide blossoming grin on Leora's face, her lips stretching ear to ear proudly as she looked at her without an ounce of pity. She meant it.

"W-w-wait." Creon stuttered like a broken record, checking his cue cards and then at the Peacekeepers that had accompanied him. "We have a volunteer, ladies and gentlemen, for the 75th Hunger Games!" Leora rolled her eyes and motioned him to hurry up. "Volunteering for Seraphine Reza, Leora Shelley!"

Leora strutted past Creon, her burnt orange long-shirt made her look like a burning torch as she moved and came to a halt right next to Sera. The blossoming grin never faded once as she traded places with the younger girl.

Her hand was on her shoulder, she leaned down and whispered, barely audible to anyone but Sera. "Don't try to stop me again." She pulled back and waved at the crowd jubilantly as she'd already won before she was even in the arena.

Her second attempt on her own life.

Leora was determined. She knew they couldn't stop her if she threw herself into the fire they lit to keep themselves entertained.

It was an equal exchange. Sera was spared from returning to the arena. Leora had a way to be set free.

Wells was the only one who was shocked. He kept turning his head back and forth from Leora to Sera, biting his lips and holding back an explosion of curses. After everything he'd gone through to keep Leora alive, she'd thrown it away to join him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you District 5's representatives for the 75th Hunger Games: Julian Wells and Leora Shelley!" Creon tried to drum up excitement, falling flat as the people of District 5 bowed their heads in despair.

Winning a Hunger Games now meant nothing. You'd survive for a few more years and could be called back if the Capitol wanted to.

Two victors gone like that.

Three, if Porter's sudden death was taken into account.

But nobody mentioned Porter throughout the reaping and the lead-up to it. All traces of her were washed clean and her death was brushed under the rug.

Nobody wanted to talk about Porter. How she'd been found with vomit covering her face. How blue her lips and tips of her fingers were. Nobody wanted to talk about it.

Her death was shameful. An overdose, a few Peacekeepers had whispered. Five wasn't known for overdoses and she was a victor too so it was brushed under the rug. They couldn't let her death tarnish the 75th Hunger Games but posters of her younger self hung around Five as if there was nothing wrong. They didn't erase her completely.

"May the odds be in our favor!" Leora interjected with a cackle.

Surprised, Creon jumped back, remembering that he'd forgotten to say that line. He fumbled around with his cue cards, trying to find the right one. He finally gave up and took out the last one of the bunch.

Sera might've cracked a smile if the situation wasn't so dire, she could even picture and hear Zephyr's laughter but no one moved. Not even the leaves on the distanced trees nearby shook when Leora spoke.

"That concludes the reaping for the 3rd Quarter Quell and the 75th Hunger Games!" Creon announced, resigned to the gloomy atmosphere. "Please give a final round of applause to your representatives."

That wasn't in the script. Everyone knew it wasn't. Creon was trying to give Leora and Wells a final send-off. Nobody applauded. After all, it was disrespectful to clap at a funeral.

Wells shut his eyes and turned away from the cameras but Leora kept her grin, even waving at the cameras. She was trying to get a rise out of the people behind them on the other end, telling them she won regardless of what they were trying to do.

But she was shaking. Sera didn't know if it was in fear or excitement as Creon was already leading her back to where Estelle stood.

Nobody in Five seemed surprised by Leora's volunteering. They'd expected it. She was known for her attempts on her own life. Some even sighed in relief that she'd be gone and they wouldn't have to witness another one of her attempts to drown herself in the lakes and rivers of Five.

But it was heartbreaking that any of their victors had been picked.

Winning one game meant you were exempt from living through that nightmare for the rest of your lives or that was the promise Panem was sold.

The Capitol lied to them.

When the haze of futility cleared, Sera was sure Panem would wake up in fury.

And if that was Plutarch's plan then she'd have to applaud him. He managed to get Panem's attention but also earned her ire.

"Four might be the only career district this year that I don't see a volunteer from," Effie stated, crossing her arms and shaking her head.

On the screen was District 4, a small school of victors gathered on stage. A few familiar faces among both men and women but the one that struck out the most was Finnick Odair.

His shining bronze hair cast a halo over him under the harsh District 4 sun, making him stand out the most. His hands were clasped in front of him and a carefree smile was painted on his lips.

He was one of the few victors who looked like they didn't care about the reaping or the fact that they had to go back to the arena after winning.

The other victors from Four were blank-faced and some even scared. Some were even glaring at him for how at ease he seemed. Needless to say, there wouldn't be any volunteers from Four that year.

Haymitch grumbled out an indecipherable answer that was too quiet for Katniss' ears. But from Effie's reaction, it seemed like he agreed.

When Finnick's name was called out. He stepped forward without complaints and said a few words before stepping aside, his grin never dropping but his eyes were empty. Peeta seemed to stop noting down names for a second to study him for a moment longer, assessing him before putting down a star next to Finnick's name along with a small note that was too illegible for Katniss' eyes.

Then it was the women. District 4 had a healthy bunch for both male and female victors. Still, it was surprising when Annie Cresta's name of all names was called out.

Effie had covered her mouth in shock, giving a little shake of her head. Haymitch had remained still, not reacting as Annie Cresta broke down. She was one of the few victors, not many knew about. One of the few ones that had evaded the spotlight.

But now everyone in Panem could see exactly why she was shoved into the shadows. The woman was red-faced, hysterical, and looking around the crowd in pure shock, wild-eyed, clutching her throat, almost clawing at it like she was drowning. She didn't even take a single step forward, another had raised her hand to volunteer.

Mags Flanagan, the eighty-year-old victor raised her hand to volunteer before the escort for Four had even asked for any volunteers. She had to be helped onto the stage by a few people and used a cane to walk around. Yet she didn't hesitate to volunteer.

Peeta's pen scratched against the paper with a sharp quickness and he crossed the star next to Annie's name and put a star on Mags. Then the Capitol's flag flashed on the screen, the adverts noticeably absent that year from the reaping recaps.

The flag of Five appeared. Haymitch shifted in his seat and leaned closer. He had a friend in Five, he didn't say it out loud but it was obvious he knew a few victors from Five.

Unlike District 4, Five only had a handful of victors. Six in total. Katniss counted them and tried to memorize their faces and names as they appeared below. All of them were vaguely familiar, a distant memory of the past.

"Wasn't there supposed to be seven victors?" Peeta interrupted. "Porter? Wasn't it?" He read out from his notebook, pointing at it to Haymitch and Effie. Katniss turned her head to look at the page.

Porter Millicent Tripp.

"She passed away a few weeks before the reaping." Effie answered in a quiet somber tone.

"At least she didn't suffer." Katniss wanted to say but she held back.

So Katniss just nodded along. There wasn't much to ask. Porter wasn't there and she did not need to be noted. She was gone, she wouldn't be any help to her. The six other victors were the ones she needed to focus on.

District 5 with their six victors stood evenly spaced under the bright skies of Five. Their overly nervous escort somehow barely managed to get through the usual speeches before he managed to get to the reapings.

A few recognizable faces stood out from the little group and one particle made Katniss freeze, almost pausing the entire reaping.

Stood between two middle-aged victors was a familiar face. Long black hair framed her face in styled curls and hollow silvery eyes with a painted smile that didn't reach her eyes.

She was dressed in a navy flowery dress that almost appeared black. If it wasn't for the flowers on her dress or the sunny District 5 weather, Katniss would think she was dressed for a funeral.

But there was no mistaking her. Sera. It was Sera. She'd only spoken to the woman once but she'd never forget her face and her cryptic words on the rooftop of the Training Center.

She never thought she'd see her again after her crowning ceremony.

But she was there on the stage with a hollow doll-like smile and a glassy gaze. She looked dead and alive at the same time. If it wasn't for her light-tanned complexion and fuller pink lips, she'd look more like a corpse, reanimated and made to stand on stage.

"Is that Seraphine?" She heard Effie say, leaning forward on the edge of her seat. "I didn't realize that she was still around."

"She was at our Victory Ceremony." Peeta reminded Effie, underling Sera's name in bold strokes.

Haymitch didn't say anything and just shifted in his seat uncomfortably. His focus was on the male tributes but he did take his eyes off of them to look at Sera. A pained look on his face appeared and he turned away like she was the sun and staring at her for any longer would burn his eyes.

Katniss would be lying if she said she knew any of them well enough; she didn't. None of them stood out to her, except maybe the one in navy with short braided coily hair and dark skin. He looked strong, was taller, and seemed a little smart. She tried to remember him and his games but only a name came to her name.

"That's Huxley Foret." Peeta had said, noticing her focus on that victor.

Katniss nodded. He looked strong and would make a good ally. Peeta seemed to think that too, his pen unconsciously hovered between two names, both unfamiliar to Katniss.

But Huxley Foret wasn't picked.

The one who was reaped seemed to be in his late 30s and much more clumsy on his feet, stumbling forward towards the mic. He left without saying a word, a glare at the cameras and then he'd taken his place.

Haymitch pursed his lips and almost turned away. He knew that victor. One of his friends.

The escort from Five quickly moved on without asking for volunteers. Maybe it was a blunder. He was making too many mistakes and even dropped a card or two on the floor, causing Effie to shake her head in strong disapproval.

"I don't know how he even managed to graduate." Effie had commented, clicking her tongue and shaking her head. "Emilia was so much better, she even taught a few classes when I was in University—wasn't my Professor though but I wished she was. A shame she stood down to become Seraphine's assistant."

Five's escort's nervousness was infectious and would've done nothing to ease the tension at the reaping. Katniss couldn't help but nod along, a little grateful for Effie when she saw the nervous District 5 escort.

Effie would never make those mistakes and would rather rehearse her lines than drop her cards in the middle of a speech.

"Seraphine Reza."

Effie gasped and covered her face. Even Haymitch seemed surprised by her reaping. It was like she wasn't supposed to be picked—no, she wasn't supposed to be an option. He covered his mouth and leaned back into his seat, his eyes wide and almost bulging out of his sockets.

There was silence in the room for a few seconds, silent as the crowd in District 5 when Sera's name was called out. Nobody moved or said anything. They just watched Sera stand there, taking it all in with that hollow smile on her face and those doll-like glassy eyes.

Katniss seemed to be the only one relieved that Sera had been reaped. It was cruel to think but she'd be a good ally.

She turned to Peeta, thinking he'd already made a few notes on her or put a star next to her name but he didn't. Peeta seemed to hesitate writing her off as a returnee as if he was expecting someone to volunteer.

The reaping cut and the next image was of Sera in front of the mic for her speech. She must've stood in her place for longer than the Capitol liked.

"I'd like to thank the Capitol." Her voice was honeyed and breathy at the same time. She seemed to pause every few seconds to look at each of the cameras like she was addressing the people behind them. "For everything they've done for me. I'll remember it all and keep it with me. Thank you."

Effie sniffed and dabbed the corner of her eyes with her handkerchief, crying silent tears. She sat up and let out a heavy breath.

Looking at Effie, Katniss felt a pang of sudden guilt. She turned to Peeta and he'd gone still in silent anticipation, studying Sera's last words and refusing to put a star down. He was expecting someone to volunteer for Sera.

Haymitch's sudden quiet laughter made heads turn as he covered his face and muffled his coughing laughter.

"Something funny, Haymitch?" Effie asked in a shrill tone, offended.

"Nothing." Haymitch replied but he carried on, muffling his laughter before it died into a sad bitter smile. "...Nothing at all."

Whatever Sera had said was understood perfectly by Haymitch. Katniss didn't understand it at all. To her and maybe the rest of Panem except those who knew her, her words seemed decent and too nice to the Capitol. She didn't seem bitter at all or sad or happy or excited at the opportunity to go back like some of the other victors.

No, Sera just couldn't be read and Katniss just didn't know what she thought. Her face gave nothing away, that doll-like smile and those glassy eyes were a mask that never slipped.

"Someone will volunteer for her." Effie swiftly changed the topic. She seemed to have a soft spot for Sera. "Someone has to."

"Someone will." Haymitch said quietly.

And sure enough, another stepped forward. Peeta's pen distracted Katniss from noticing the name flash on the screen. He put a star next to a name and a line underneath Sera's name.

The reaping afterward moved far quicker than Katniss would've liked. She wasn't focusing on many of them, just picking apart a few here and there. District 6 didn't have any victors of interest and after that, it became a blur. Her mind lingered back to Five.

District 8's reaping managed to make Effie lament again when 'Cecelia', a thirty-something-year-old victor with three children, was reaped. Katniss made a note of her but put her to the side of the victors that were just there and before she knew it, the reapings were all over.

The District 12 team separated when the reaping was over, trading a few words here and there. Haymitch was the first to leave the compartment. Effie stood up with a heavy heart bid them all a good night and left next, leaving only Peeta in the compartment with her. It was only for a minute or two before even Katniss left to try and get some sleep.

But sleep didn't come to her, mind buzzing with thoughts of the Quarter Quell and the immense disappointment over losing a potential ally. Sera wasn't her friend by no means, she was a friendly face Katniss had met passing by, someone who was sure that she'd come back in one piece and someone who could've been her ally.

But now, Katniss didn't know what to do. She'd half-expected the victor to be her ally and her connection to the rest of the victors.

Next to her in the television room, Peeta nursed a warm cup in between his hands, still awake like her. He was studying the games while she was tossing and turning in disappointment. On the screen were the last Quarter Quell—Haymitch's games.

The reaping had started after a quick announcement of the new rules of games just for that year from a younger President Snow. Like the reapings for the present year, the reapings of then were cut short just long enough to give a glimpse back in time but not long enough to give more.

By the time the reapings had made it to Twelve, Katniss had gotten comfortable in her seat. Her robe wrapped around her tight and a warm drink in her hand. Peeta was next to her with his notebook and a pen though he hadn't taken any notes since the reaping had started.

Twelve's escort strutted onto the stage and started to speak. A thick Capitol accent on her tongue made her a little hard to understand, much harder to understand compared to her stylist team, Cinna, or even Effie. She started with the female victors just like Effie and two girls were picked—Katniss recognized one of them.

"Maysilee Donner." Her mother's friend and Peeta told her that Maysilee is—was Madge's aunt.

The weight of the mockingjay pin that Madge had gifted her felt heavier now, knowing its significance. She'd never known how interconnected they all were.

The screen switched back to the escort and they moved on to the boys. Haymitch was the last one to be picked and for the first time, Katniss could see Haymitch as he once was with what he had. Younger, smarter, and much more of a looker than the present Haymitch.

A nearly identical yet younger face was standing next to him. His younger brother stood still in shock. The camera briefly shifted to another, a girl who covered her mouth in horror and keeled over when Haymitch was called. She seemed so out of place in Twelve, having neither the typical Seam-look nor the Merchant-look.

Katniss had only seen someone like her in the past Hunger Games from Districts 1, 2 or 3. She never thought someone like her was ever there in District 12 yet there was something about her that made her seem so familiar like the two had crossed paths before but nothing came to her mind when she thought about it.

"I think that's Haymitch's girlfriend," Peeta said and Katniss could only nod softly. "I remember hearing about them—about her."

"From your father?"

He nodded. "Her family used to own a grocery store that my family used to frequent back then. He told me it burnt down after the Quell. Their house was on the second floor. Nobody survived, not even Lian."

"Lian?"

"Haymitch's girlfriend."

He pointed to the girl on the screen with soft curly black hair that seemed like silk threads falling on top of her head effortlessly. Her eyes were the same shade of the shiny black as her hair but it was tainted with red from crying. Haymitch seemed to pause for a moment to look at her and mouth something before she started sobbing even harder.

And that was the end of the reaping. Haymitch said a few words and it quickly cut to the next part of the games.

"You okay?" Peeta asked, momentarily looking away from the screen.

"As fine as I'll ever be." She replied breezily.

"You sure? You looked a little disappointed before."

"You noticed?"

Peeta didn't answer her. He flipped a few pages back to the notes with the names of all the District 5 and 4 victors. "Seraphine Reza. You looked like you knew her—even back then, at our crowning."

Katniss brought her drink to her lips, in an attempt to avoid answering his question. Her meeting with Sera was a secret. It wasn't like she'd been sworn to secrecy by the older victor but something about their meeting felt…secretive.

Like the two were never meant to meet. Sera didn't seem like she expected the meeting. Yet somehow, Sera was confident that they'd meet again. She looked at Katniss with strange pitiful looks both times they met. She pitied both her and Peeta. Katniss didn't seem to understand her back then but the more she thought about it, the more confused she became.

"I…might've spoken to her once." She could trust Peeta with that secret.

No, Peeta was all she had to trust. The only one she had. She'd left Gale and Prim behind in Twelve. And her only other friend was long gone, nothing but a memory.

Peeta paused the screen and Katniss bit the bottom of her lips. She'd prefer the background noise of the reapings over a silent Peeta. "You've talked to her?"

"Once." Katniss admitted. "Last year. Before we went in. I found her on the roof. She seemed a lot different from the rumors."

"She's not as nice?"

"No, she was nice and very optimistic." Katniss said. "She even gave me a cupcake."

"So it was after the interviews." Peeta guessed. "It was her birthday."

"Her birthday?"

Peeta nodded. "Everyone knows Seraphine's birthday is on that day. It's the same date every year and she brought it up during her interview."

"You watched her games?"

A brief pause and shaky nod was the response Peeta gave Katniss. He hesitated, picking up his notebook and flipping a few pages forward. "Her games were one of the last ones to be led by Plutarch Heavensbee. I wanted to see what his works' like."

"And? What was it like?"

"It was long. Impossibly long." Peeta flipped over a few pages to show Katniss all of his notes to prove his words. "I think I ended up skipping too many days forward."

"What was she like in the arena?"

"I'm not sure how I'd describe her."

"Is that a good thing?"

Peeta shrugged. His face scrunched up in deep thought, his eyes scanning the pages he'd written about Sera's games. "It's not bad either. It's…confusing. She's good—was good. Multiple talents. Her main skill was knife-throwing but before that, it seemed like she was forager and maybe even the healer of her group."

"That's a good thing?" Disappointment flooded back in and she slumped into her seat.

"Like I said, very confusing."

"You did skip through a lot of it."

Peeta didn't argue about that and simply agreed that maybe Katniss was right. At the same time, he seemed troubled by Sera's games. Like something was bothering him. "You know…she had an alliance in her games. Two alliances if I'm being accurate. There was the more known one—"

"—The anti-career alliance. I remember that one."

"Both of those alliances didn't end well."

"None of the alliances in the games end well."

"That's not what I meant." Peeta took a sip of his drink and grabbed the remote, ready to end the pause but he hesitated. "Her allies, there was something off about them the longer they spent with her—they became more aggressive and paranoid."

"You make it sound like she was the reason for all of that and not the game or the gamemakers."

"I don't know and apparently no one does either." Katniss raised her brow in confusion. "Her win was accidental too. She just hid in the shadows while the remaining of her allies fought against the careers and when it was all over, she came out."

"She played it smart."

"I'm just saying that she wouldn't have made the best ally. No one expected her to win and no one understands why she won."

"You knew." Katniss didn't think Peeta had noticed that Katniss wanted Sera as an ally. Not only had he noticed but he'd gone out of his way to even study Sera's games. "You knew I wanted her on our team."

Peeta avoided her accusatory gaze. "You did look disappointed when someone else volunteered for her." Katniss said nothing and turned away. "I'm just…making sure our chances are high."

"She's the only other victor I know apart from Haymitch."

"She also seems to be President Snow's favorite." Peeta pointed out a matter-of-factly. "Remember she was accompanying President Snow at the Victory Ceremony."

It was like cold water was splashed onto her and she pulled her robe tighter around her like a noose. How could Katniss have forgotten about that? Sera was there, next to Snow. Not only did she give her and Peeta flowers but she'd stuck to Snow for the banquet, only to disappear before the night was over.

She'd never really thought much about it until Peeta had pointed it out. Sera and Snow. Something was going on. Sera knew she'd make it while Snow didn't want her to make it. She didn't say it out loud to Peeta. She didn't have to. He'd figure out something was wrong and just know. He always seemed to know when something was wrong.

Like at that moment, he'd reached out for her and threaded their fingers together. Her hands had gone cold and not even the warm drink in her hand could revive the warmth. Somehow Peeta's hands were just right enough to bring that warmth back.

"I think we got lucky that Seraphine is not going to be in the arena." Peeta said softly and Katniss looked up at him as he unpaused Haymitch's game.

Nothing was left to be said or Katniss didn't know exactly what to feel or say. So she focused on the screen where the second Quell played.

"You know it wouldn't have been the worst thing in the world to have Sera as an ally. She could've helped get more allies."

Peeta laughed and turned to her. "You're not letting that go, are you?"

"I just…we don't know anyone and the Capitol has their favorites."

"She's a favorite."

"Exactly."

"Of President Snow." Peeta reminded. "The Capitol people like her more than any other victor. I heard about her at the banquet and the dinner a few months back. They were expecting her to be there like it was normal. I think we should be grateful that she's not going back in."

"It's not like her odds would've been high." She was sick apparently. How much of a threat would a sick victor be to them? Not much, that's what Katniss thought. She'd be an easy ally and an easy enemy.

Peeta made a sound and shook his head. "Katniss, the odds don't matter." He said slowly, drawing each word out to drill his words into her mind. He was right. The odds didn't matter. Not if they weren't in their favor. They got lucky once, a second time would be impossible. "She's a favorite."

"You said that."

"I did." He replied. "I'm saying that if she went into the arena—our odds would be none. Seraphine Reza would come out alive, doesn't matter how. She'll be coming back."

Because she was close to Snow.

Still, she had so many questions like how Peeta knew but before she could even get it out. The games on the screen were over and the tape ejected just in time as Haymitch staggered into the room. Peeta quickly removed the tape before Haymitch caught a glimpse of the tape and put it aside.

Haymitch slumped down into a seat and shut his eyes. It seemed like he couldn't sleep either. "Were you two talking about Seraphine?" He asked, his eyes still shut but it slowly opened and he stared at the ceiling.

"Katniss wanted her as an ally." Peeta said and Katniss' head snapped quickly in Peeta's direction in silent betrayal.

Their mentor let out a chesty laugh that turned into a series of strangled coughs. He managed to somehow stop his coughs and sit up. "Oh, you've lost your mind and you're not even back in the arena."

Katniss rolled her eyes and turned away. "She's the only other victor I know—"

"She's the only other victor that most Capitol folks see as one of their own—no, they see her as someone better than them."

"How so?" Peeta asked.

"She does loads of charity stuff, nothing too interesting, just enough to get in the good books of the Capitol people but she is…I think she's good." Haymitch seemed to spit out the last few words. "Hasn't given me a reason to think otherwise. But," He turned to Katniss. "Peeta's right. If Seraphine went in, neither of you would get out."

That was the end of it. Neither Haymitch nor Peeta wanted to carry on the conversation. The two fell into a comfortable silence and let their words seep into Katniss' mind, hoping it went through.