Timber

Chapter Ten: The Aftermath

Time seemed to grind to a halt as the moment settled upon her. Her heartbeat thundered against her sensitive eardrums.

She had to have misheard, hallucinated, or had a seizure or something. That couldn't be true.

Her throbbing ears had to be deceiving her. Bile crawled up her esophagus as Silus extricated himself from the crowd of boys.

Unfortunately, nothing was wrong with her hearing.

How was this possible? How had they both been selected?

It was unfathomable.

Unbelievable.

Against all odds.

Yet here they were.

Disbelief liquefied into naked horror.

Hazel's eyes cradled him as he approached. She wanted to sob, to object, to do something, anything.

But the words wouldn't come, and her muscles rebelled.

What could be said that would be sufficient?

About as much as could be done to remedy this unfolding disaster.

Fern's expression was a portrait of terror; her hands clasped over her mouth, stifling another wail.

Beside her, Oren was statuesque, like he wasn't truly present in their collective reality. His eyes, usually so full of self-assurance, now mirrored a pain so profound that it seared a new wave of something un-nameable through her.

The only clear thing in Hazel's world was the agony on the faces of those she loved most. Their pain was her pain, magnified and reflected back at her.

As Silus approached the stage, his broad shoulders slumped as if a load of bricks were attached to his back. His muscles were rigid, and his injured hand flexed with each footfall.

In his eyes, there was an unfamiliar, hard edge. They were fixated on a point in the distance. Maybe it was a different reality altogether.

When he finally ascended the stage, his eyes met Hazel's. The intense sorrow in his stare unraveled her composure. A silent, macabre conversation unfolded.

He gave her a tilted nod, almost invisible.

The tears she had attempted to keep barricaded broke free, cascading down her cheeks.

Silus sidled up to her, his breathing notably weathered. Her eyes sunk to her shoes. She couldn't look at him or her family. Though her mother's sobs continued to pierce the stifling air.

"A historic day for District Seven and the entirety of Panem! For the first time, siblings will represent us in the Hunger Games!"

The words scraped against Hazel's skull.

Historic. She had a dry, bitter laugh caught in her trachea.

Gritting her teeth, she willed the nausea to keep from fishing up her breakfast. The thought of the arena....of Silus within its hold—sunk like razor-sharp talons into her chest.

Indira's voice droned on, her melodic cadence a swarm of flies, buzzing, ceaseless, suffocating. Hazel barely processed the words.

How was she supposed to protect him?

The Capitol wanted a show. They wanted siblings to tear each other apart for entertainment or at least prey on the spectacle of their suffering.

Only one of them would come home.