"Dahlia Blossom. Don't let the name fool you. She's better known as the Black Dahlia. And she didn't earn that nickname by smiling and looking pretty."
"She sure knows how to perform for the camera."
"Because she knows how to play the game. She alwa...
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"You need to give them a show." Dahlia heard her voice numbly repeating the words she'd given to so many tributes in the past. But none of them had been her own sister. "That's all they want."
What else could she say? Once again, someone else was bearing the consequences of Dahlia's actions. Her punishment is always carried out through someone else's pain. How many more people does she have to lose before her mind spirals into a dark hole she can never escape from?
"Flower." Alaric sounded so far away, like she was drowning under the waves and his voice was muffled from the surface. "Dahlia." Her eyes stared unseeing in front of her, burning with a crazed fire bubbling within. "Dahlia!" The man's hands gripping her shoulders and shaking her back to reality makes her eyes snap up to him. He's taken aback by the harshness of her gaze, the fury of The Black Dahlia glaring daggers at him, but refuses to be scared of the girl he's raised. "I need you to focus. We will get Lavender out together. But I need you present and sharp."
The last thing Dahlia wants to do is guide her sister through the process that stripped her of everything she was. The Capitol breaks tributes down just so they can build them back up exactly how they want them. They're just little dolls forced into the Capitol's sadistic dress-up game. But if she doesn't do anything, Lavender will die. And she will lose the last person who knew her before she was called The Black Dahlia. As much as she hates it, Dahlia will have to play the game once more.
Reluctantly, she nods at the older Victor and allows her body to relax from its tensed state. Alaric breathes a sigh of relief, still eying her warily. Her sanity is hanging on by a thin thread as it is, and the information he has to share with her will put even more strain on it. "Good... Because there's something you need to see."
•——————•°•✿•°•——————•
"The female tribute from District Four is... Annie Cresta."
Just when things couldn't get any worse for Dahlia, Snow throws another innocent life into the mix. Only one tribute will make it out alive and graduate to a Victor. Dahlia's sister or Cove's sister. Who will rise and who will fall? Maybe they'll both perish. Maybe Dahlia will lose her sister and break a promise to her friend in the same Games. Snow has a wicked mind. He knows how to make the girl suffer.
"What's your plan, Flower?" Alaric asks cautiously after an agonisingly long silence with no visible reaction from Dahlia. He knows he would support her with whatever decision she makes and back her fight no matter the cost.
Dahlia doesn't reply straight away, because the answer isn't an obvious one. It's not as simple as betting on your favourite horse. It's more like picking which animal to send to the slaughter. Only it's not animals, it's real people, and those children will fight to the death instead of a mercifully quick end. She could argue back and forth with herself for hours and hours, but still never be satisfied with her decision. There is no right choice. Snow has her trapped between a rock and a hard place.
