Chapter 4

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In the morning I'm woken by the train stopping to refuel.

Sunlight shimmers through the windows as I roll out of bed and make my way to the dining car, pausing along the way to take in the scenery. We're speeding along a mountainside, the track carving through the fog-covered terrain. Between the pine trees, glimpses of crystal-blue water glisten from below, its waves lapping against the rocky shore.

There are no views like this in District 12, not even when you breach the fence and hike far into the wilderness. The foothills surrounding us are green and lush, but the winding rivers are more brown than blue. It's charming in its own way, but this degree of natural beauty is surreal. Whichever district we're in, our school textbooks don't do it justice.

The meal they've spread out is just as colorful and diverse as the night before. I'm still full from finishing off the crab cakes, but I'm ready to sample the assortment of glossy pastries, fruits, and delicacies arranged in tiered trays and decorative bowls.

Waiting to be of service, Cresen stands in the same position as when I left her. Only this time we don't make eye contact, a small gesture I'm thankful for.

I'm two Lime Avocado Croissants in when Maysilee makes an appearance. Like me, she's still wearing pajamas.

She rubs her eyes with both fists. "How'd you sleep?"

"Surprisingly well, given the circumstances. What about you?"

When she shakes her head, blonde waves tumble around her shoulders. "All I did was dream about home, and what will happen if I don't make it back."

I've been fighting the same thoughts since we left. My family needs me. So does Laurel—now more than ever. I'm just grateful those worries didn't keep me staring at the ceiling all night.

"You have a girlfriend, don't you?" Maysilee studies me for longer than necessary. "I've seen you at school together. What's her name?"

I swallow hard and pretend to sip at the nutty concoction in my mug. "Laurel."

"She's pretty." A weird silence stretches between us as she fills her plate and sinks into the chair across from me. "I bet you miss her. Did you get to say goodbye?"

"We did." But that's not something I want to think about. Thinking about it will distract me, and I promised my mother I'd stay focused. I need to stay focused. It's the only shot I have at getting back home.

Before she can ask another question, Thorne wanders into the dining car already dressed in fitted beige pants and a soft blue sweater. He's lean, like me, but taller; his wiry frame moving with a self-assurance I hadn't noticed before. For all I know, he took advantage of the mini bar before we woke up.

Maysilee greets him with a nod. "How was your night?"

Same as yesterday, Thorne doesn't respond. Instead, he loads his plate down with Caviar Omelettes and a heaping pile of Sweet Potato Hash and takes a seat at the farthest end of the table.

"I haven't seen you around before," she continues, still attempting a conversation. "What grade are you in?"

But he continues to act as if we're not here.

Maysilee furrows her brow. I'm not trying to make friends with people I'm expected to kill, but his rudeness is annoying—especially when she's only trying to be nice.

I shovel in a spoonful of Gooseberry Parfait and shift in my seat to face him. "Either you have a stick up your backside, or you're as mute as a mule."

Thorne levels me with a glare before returning to his plate.

Maysilee shrugs a shoulder. "If he doesn't want to talk, that's no skin off my back. One less person to worry about going into the Games."

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⏰ Last updated: Mar 18 ⏰

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