Splintered

Chapter Thirty-One: What Bleeds, What Binds

"Coryo, this is absolute madness." Festus swept toward them. "Never trusted that bastard, and clearly he's lost his mind. I think the situation calls for a stiff drink and a plan."

"Agreed." Snow softly chuckled as he pulled Hazel's injured hand up between them, untying his handkerchief. In the short amount of time, it had turned a mucky shade of pink, like the innards of a slaughtered animal.

She shivered. It reminded her of Silus and their first day in the Capitol. When she had tried to hide his injury from the wolves. However, Snow's motivations for hiding hers were less than selfless, and he was one of those very wolves. Might even be their leader someday.

"Miss Lovegood. See that her bandages are replaced," he commanded.

"Yes, of course, Senator." Indira straightened, "Come on, dear, let's get you changed before blood gets on that dress."

"Get some rest. It is a long journey to Eight," Snow advised in her direction while letting Festus steer him toward the train's bar. "You are right, Fest; I think a strategy update is overdue. I also need a campaign manager."

Festus stopped short. "Was that a job offer?" He paused. "Because if it is, I'll need a raise and hazard pay."

Snow's smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "That's negotiable."

Glancing over his shoulder, Snow fixated his scrutiny on Sable. "Pytash, you'll join us. We need to discuss adjustments to security protocols."

"Yes, sir," Sable agreed.

Leo kept his lips pressed together, but she could feel the questioning stare. He stalled a step behind her. She knew he wanted to talk, to ask her all the questions swimming through his stare. In a way, she wanted to tell him equally as much. More than anyone else. She wanted to unload everything. But just because she wanted to, didn't mean she could. Or should. Both of their safety depended on her silence. However, the concept might be a lost cause already.

Snow's gaze drifted toward the peacekeeper.

Sable caught it too. "Draytons," he barked, waving for Bellona and Leo to follow. "With me."

Bellona gave Hazel a brief glance before she fell in behind Sable without a word.

Leo stayed put a second longer. "And her injury?"

"I promise to keep her alive while you all are gone." Indira insisted.

"She can handle it." Bellona agreed.

Hazel coaxed him with the faintest of nods. Go.

"Yes, sir," Leo agreed as he peeled himself away.

Festus looped an arm around his shoulders with a dry laugh. "Relax, Drayton. It's a drink, not an execution."

Snow, calm as the forest after rainfall, glimpsed at Hazel one last time before disappearing down the corridor.

Festus's commentary about poor decisions and liver function echoed after them.

The low-grade terror within her wasn't sure whether to feel relief or dissolve into full-blown panic.

"All that preparation and barely any camera time," Indira muttered under her breath, eyeing her ensemble with disappointment. Cupping Hazel's raw hand, she led her toward the quiet sanctuary of her room, immediately confiscating the jewelry while grumbling about missing pieces of gold.

After exchanging the dress for a shirt and pants from home, Hazel sank down at the table. She couldn't ignore her injury any longer.

With the remnants of the evening sunlight soaking in through the windows, she set to work. Inch by inch, she detangled the layers of destroyed bandaging.