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After letting the sheep graze for another hour and returning them to their pen, Daphne, Lysa and Tobe had headed down to the marketplace, Barley trotting at their heels. The marketplace, always bustling with activity, had been unusually quiet this morning.

They'd visited the bakery that Esther usually worked at, drooling over the loaves of freshly baked bread on display and wishing they could afford to take some home. By some miracle, Mr. Pash, the mousy little man who ran the bakery, gave them each a tiny loaf of butter bread free of charge. Maybe all the mooning had finally paid off, though part of Daphne suspected it was only because he pitied them. They'd given him a few plums in exchange anyways, since there was nobody around to trade with today.

The trio separated into their own homes for a bit after getting back from the marketplace. Daphne set the butter bread on the dining table, far from the edge to ensure it was out of Barley's reach, before heading back outside. 

Rourke was out in the sheep pen, a thin man with oily brown hair crouched beside him. As Daphne approached, she realized that the man was Tenner Espinoza, and the two were examining the hind leg of a sheep. Rourke heard Daphne's footsteps drawing near, or maybe it was Barley's audible panting that alerted him, but either way he looked up and waved his daughter over.

"Daph! Great timing," he said as she leaned against the picket fence of the pen. "One of the ewes has a cut on her left hind trotter. Did you notice anything that might've caused it while taking them out to graze this morning?"

Tenner glanced up at Daphne, as if just noticing that she was there. His thick eyebrows knitted slightly together, as if he were trying to mask his disdain from her father. Daphne gave him a hard glance back as she replied steadily, "I don't think so. We followed the same path as usual."

Tenner Espinoza did not like Daphne; he made that clear as glass. It was probably because she, Lysa and Tobe had once included his daughter Azalea in their little group. Daphne had trusted those three with her life, even going as far as admitting her infatuation with Caelum once a couple years ago.

Azalea, one day last year, apparently thought it was funny to inform Caelum and everyone else at school of this, and her action had marked the end of their friendship and trust. It wasn't her betrayal that hurt Daphne the most, it was the things they'd spat in the argument afterwards that ripped open wounds in both of them. Wounds that never fully healed. 

It made Daphne's blood boil every time she thought of Azalea. Azalea now avoided Daphne like she had the plague, and since Lysa and Tobe were determined to stick by Daphne's side, she stopped seeing them as well.

As for Caelum, he'd never been the same since. He used to be comfortable talking to Daphne, randomly walking up and striking conversation about a new book he'd read or cracking a joke. Now, he avoided her like Azalea, except Daphne never actually understood why. Maybe it was the awkwardness of it all, like a mountain had sprouted between them.

Azalea's parents still kept in touch with Daphne's, since small communities had to stick together. Tenner was the best livestock doctor they had around here, which meant he stopped by often whenever one of their animals needed some bandaging.

Daphne hung around until the ewe was taken care of, Barley keeping a watchful eye of Tenner. Daphne noticed that Rourke's grip was tense as he shook the other man's hand before he departed. As soon as Tenner was out of sight, both father and daughter loosed a breath, then looked at each other and chuckled.

"I don't know what it is about him, but that man always makes me uneasy," Rourke sighed, tugging off his gloves.

"Yeah," Daphne muttered, shaking her head. "So does his daughter."

It was hard to swallow the butter bread as Daphne munched on a slice for lunch a couple hours later. Even the fresh milk they'd received this morning from the Caflischs didn't help wash it down. She hadn't been hungry in the first place, but Esther insisted that she have something to eat before the Reaping, even if their pantry was practically empty and Daphne had been conditioned to only eat when she needed to.

Before she knew it, Daphne was walking along a dirt road, her parents flanking her on either side, headed towards the plaza in which the Reaping was to take place. The District Ten Justice Building was located there, but either way the plaza was the only spot in the district that was big enough to hold such an event.

They didn't live too far off from the Justice Building. Despite having an unstable food supply, the Fengs had somehow been lucky enough to be blessed with mostly healthy livestock. From the feeble coin they make off that, they'd been just well off enough to narrowly escape living in the poorer parts of the district.

The dirt road beneath their feet eventually transitioned into concrete and cobblestone, which indicated that they had arrived. Masses of people surrounded them, the beating sun and influx of body heat making sweat cover Daphne's forehead. The tight pack made it somewhat hard to breathe, and her palms began to tremble. Esther reached for her hand, and for once Daphne felt not one shred of embarrassment as a seventeen year old holding their parent for comfort.

If Daphne stood on her toes, she could just see over the crowds to notice Peacekeepers lining the edges of the square, their stark white suits and deadly weapons making them painstakingly obvious.

The Justice Building loomed ahead, a giant white screen hanging up above the stage. Camera crews were everywhere; atop buildings, moving within the crowds, peeking from balconies. There was a line of booths set up right before the entrance to the plaza where government officials would identify citizens through blood. Daphne's hand was shaking as she offered it, and the lady at her booth pricked her index finger with a fancy looking needle that beeped as it registered her blood. The lady then pressed Daphne's finger down on a sheet of paper, probably for record, and she was free to enter the plaza.

Daphne hugged Esther and Rourke before being herded away into the roped areas designated for twelve to eighteen year olds. Everyone else stood at the edges, muttering prayers and clinging tightly to each others' hands. The younger you were, the further back you stood, meaning seventeen year olds like Daphne were up near the front.

Daphne glanced around the crowd in an attempt to find any familiar faces. She recognized quite a few from school, and she thought she caught a glimpse of Azalea Espinoza's bushy brown hair. She eventually spotted Lysa and Tobe a ways off from where she stood. They didn't look in her direction.

Mayor Alvarez appeared in front of the podium up on the stage. He began to recite a story; the same story that was repeated year after year upon the Reaping. The brutal history of Panem, from the relentless disasters that had brought about the collapse of North America, the way the country had risen despite the odds, all the way down to the rebellions of the Dark Days that had marked the beginning of the Hunger Games a hundred-fifty years ago.

Following the recount of Panem's backstory, Alvarez read out the list of victors from District Ten, which didn't take very long. There were seven names, but only one remained alive today. Theia Gumede, sitting in one of the chairs up on stage, had won the hundred-forty-fifth Hunger Games. The same one Aedon had fallen victim to.

A part of Daphne wanted to hate Theia for failing to protect her brother, but she knew she was just being silly at that point. When Aedon had died, Theia had been held hostage by the Careers, barely managing to escape with her life.

Theia had been sixteen when she was Reaped, making her in her early twenties now. The smile she flashed at the crowd was much older, her face lined with the weariness that all victors carried out of the Games.

Alvarez then proceeded to introduce Iskra Cammel, the Capitol escort of District Ten, as she sauntered up to the podium. Her crimson hair, obviously artificial, was straight and cropped at her shoulders. Golden tattooed swirls were splashed across her forehead. A scowl was painted on her face as she muttered, "Happy Hunger Games, may the odds be ever in your favor."

Iskra was easily the gloomiest of the escorts, and it was just their luck to have been stuck with her for the past ten years. Every year, it's the same speech from her, droning on about how honored she was to be here and represent District Ten. Pure bullcrap. Everyone knew she hated it, and she made no attempt to cover it up.

"Let's get this over with," Iskra concluded, her voice barely more than a grumble. Daphne never understood why she was always in such a bad mood. It's not like her name was at risk.

Daphne's stomach clenched as Iskra reached into the glass ball containing the girls' names. She didn't bother making a show of deciding which of the thousands of papers she would choose. She had a slip in her hand before Daphne could even blink, much less process as she announced the unfortunate fellow's name.

"Azalea Espinoza."

Daphne's clenched jaw relaxed. It was not her. Yet her breath still caught in her throat as she scanned the scene for Azalea. Azalea's face had gone pale as a sheet, an expression of pure dread laced across her features. The crowd had cleared a wide circle around her, an open path up to the stage. Daphne had to strain to peer over everyone's heads as Azalea took one wobbly step, then another, making her way up to the podium next to Iskra.

Azalea may be an audacious, hateful, two-faced little snake, but Daphne had never wished this upon her. As Azalea gave her introduction, voice shaky as if barely holding back tears, Daphne felt something like sorrow creep into the pits of her stomach. Either that, or it was the milk she had earlier.

Iskra wasted no time in transitioning to drawing the second tribute, making her way to the second glass ball that contained the boys' names. Once again, she plunged her hand into the papers, snatching the first one she could and reading the name.

"Caelum Caflisch."

If Azalea's name had been a punch to the gut, Caelum's hit Daphne like a wrecking ball. Her breathing became shallow as she squeezed her eyes shut, barely managing to choke back a sob. This could not be real.

A scream sounded from within the crowd. Daphne knew it was Alice Lin-Caflisch even before she craned her head around, spying Alice crumpled against Ara, Caelum's reclusive older sister. Kort Caflisch was holding his wife and daughter, tears glistening in his wide green eyes.

Daphne's jaw clenched. What were the chances–the odds–that both tributes reaped were from the same community? From her community? She lifted her head and stared at the stage, where Caelum now stood beside Iskra and Azalea, his dark hair more mussed than usual. Daphne could see the barely-concealed shock in his forest green eyes as he looked at his family with as much emotion as he dared. His Adam's apple bobbed.

"And now, the twist." Iskra announced, snapping Daphne back to attention. "As you all know, this is the one-hundred-fiftieth Hunger Games, meaning our sixth Quarter Quell. This year, there will be four tributes per District. Each tribute originally reaped must choose another to enter the arena with them."

Nobody dared to make a sound as Iskra turned to Azalea. "Miss Espinoza, who would you like to choose?"

Azalea's face was ashen. Her gaze flicked back and forth across the crowd like a trapped animal, but Daphne could tell from her stance that she knew exactly who she was going to pick. Azalea took in a shaky breath as she leaned into the microphone, her golden eyes alas falling upon her target.

In those eyes, Daphne could see the pent up rage, the slow-burning twin flame harbored in both of their souls from a whole year of marinating bitterness and hatred. 

"Daphne Feng."

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