"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...
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SASHA HAD SOMEHOW CONVINCED CASSANDRA TO LEAVE HER CAVE. She clearly didn't want to be in the cafeteria, but she didn't complain out loud. Naturally, that worried Sasha more than her hiding in her room. She couldn't hold back from complaining before, no matter how many times people told her to shut up.
"Not a lot of style," Cass muttered with little enthusiasm as she looked around the cafeteria. Her nose was scrunched up and she had disdain in her gaze.
There she was.
"What did you expect from people who aren't the Capitol?" Sasha said. He didn't want to feed into her sarcasm, but it was good that she was at least resembling herself.
She rolled her eyes, "Even you guys had better style than this."
Sasha shook his head but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, "I'll take that as a compliment."
Both of them go quiet, and the Panem anthem begins to play. It was probably war propaganda, footage of District 12, or some other stupid thing Snow thought the people wanted to see. That was what Sasha always saw, and that was why he was shocked to see Caesar Flickerman appear on the screen. He hadn't seen the Hunger Games host since the Quarter Quell.
Flickerman was talking about a guest, and neither of them thought anything of it until the camera panned to show Peeta Mellark. Cassandra and Sasha stared at the screen in surprise, but Everdeen's reaction was immediate. Sasha wasn't even aware the girl was in the cafeteria until she gasped.
"So, Peeta, welcome back," Caesar said slowly as if he was trying not to trigger something.
Peeta flashed him a small smirk, "I bet you thought you'd done your last interview with me, Caesar."
He looked relatively healthy. His skin was basically glowing and his cheeks weren't hollow like everyone was expecting them to be. Sasha just hoped that that meant Evelyn was doing okay too.
"I confess, I did," Caesar nodded, "The night before the Quarter Quell... well, who thought we'd ever see you again?"
"It wasn't part of my plan," Peeta muttered in a disappointed tone, "that's for sure."
"It was clear to all of us what your plan was," Caesar leaned into him like he was telling him a secret, "You were going to sacrifice yourself in the arena to save Katniss Everdeen and your child."
"That's it, Caesar. That simple. Of course, other people had their own plans."
He wasn't wrong. The more Sasha thought about it, the more he realized it was wrong of them to leave the two victors in the dark. It was the best thing they could have done in the short term, but maybe it wasn't the best thing in the long run. The plan had gotten the job done though, and that was what mattered.
"Why don't you tell us about the last night in the arena?" Caesar asked kindly, "Help us sort some things out."
Peeta swallowed hard, and it took him a moment to start talking. "That last night... to tell you about that last night...well, first of all, you have to imagine how it felt in the arena. It was like being an insect trapped under a bowl filled with steaming air. And all around you, jungle...green and alive and ticking. That giant clock ticking away your life. Every hour promises some new horror. You have to imagine that in the past two days, sixteen people have died some of them defending you. At the rate things are going, the last eight will be dead by morning. Save one. The victor. And your plan was that it wouldn't be you.
