"Evelyn Brinley, better known as Lady Red, victor of the 72nd Hunger Games. Won her games at 15."
"Why Lady Red?"
"Because she always wears red. Oh, and she won her games by burning the remaining tributes alive."
✮
"𝑮𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒐𝒏 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒆? 𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒄...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
SASHA WAS CONVINCED ANYONE WITHIN A 10-MILE RADIUS COULD HEAR HIS HEART POUNDING. He found it hard to breathe as he stalked down the hallways, and he could hear footsteps following behind him. He knew it was Apollo, and he knew by the sound of the footsteps Apollo was pissed, but he couldn't care less. Why should he? Apollo might've been born in the districts, but he moved to the Capitol at a fairly young age. He had his father with him, and his mother was close to Snow. Nothing would happen to her unless she really screwed up. Apollo Young didn't have the right to lecture Sasha about anything, and he knew that.
"Sasha wait," Apollo called out, and after a while, Sasha stopped in his tracks and turned to face the boy.
"What?" He snapped, not bothering to hide the irritation on his face or the hostility in his tone.
"I never thought you'd be the type to blame someone for something that isn't their fault."
Sasha had to take a second to process Apollo's words. Not because he was right, but because he was so ridiculously far from the truth. Sasha blamed people for a lot of things. He was the one who had sent Evelyn the matches in her first games, and he had lectured her. He blamed peacekeepers for everything, even though most of them were either forced to do it or heavily manipulated. It was clear that Apollo simply didn't understand the kind of person Sasha was. Or he didn't know him as well as he thought he did.
"I am quite literally the type of person to judge someone for something that isn't their fault," Sasha said slowly, "But I don't understand what this has to do with anything."
"She's not going to remember anything if you don't tell her," Apollo said, and Sasha hated that he was right.
Evelyn wasn't going to get better if Sasha didn't talk to her. He was the one who knew most of her life. He didn't know her early life, but he had known her since she was 11. He knew nearly everything about her and her family, and yet he couldn't bring himself to face her. Their encounter a few minutes ago had been awkward enough because it didn't feel like Sasha was looking at Evelyn Brinley. It was like he was looking at some complete stranger, and at that point, that was exactly what she was. She was a stranger who shared the same name with the girl he had known before. And she was barely aware that they shared the same name. This Evelyn thought she was a completely different person.
"No, she's not," Sasha muttered, clenching his fists, "But maybe it's better if she doesn't. Maybe it's better if she completely forgets about her past."
"In what way would that be better?" The kid asked, crossing his arms, "You want her to be confused the rest of her life? I told her everything about the first games already, you can't just leave her wondering."
"Why didn't you tell her about the rest of the stuff?"
"Because I don't know about the rest of the stuff, Sasha! I don't know about her life before the games, I don't know everything about the Quarter Quell, and the only person who could tell her those things without confusing her more is you."
