Splintered

Chapter Thirty-Six: Ghosts, Gossip, and Chocolate Thieves

The Victory Tour train was all but hurtling toward District Eight. Thick clouds curtained the morning sun. Sprigs of frost patched the ground sporadically.

Despite the frigidness outside, Hazel was surprisingly warm. The fabric of her dress brushed against her arms and legs as the bench rocked beneath her. It was comforting in a way. The material was cottony, muted blue, almost dusk-colored, cinched at the waist and falling in delicate folds to her ankles. The sleeves clung gently to her elbows. Paired with matching boots and a simple coat, the ensemble was practically old-fashioned. It wasn't flashy. Just quietly beautiful.

She pulled the soft material tight as she leaned closer to the glass. Resting her forehead against the cool windowpane of the main train car, the gentle swaying lulled her mind. Weariness begged her to sleep. But the night had been a heady mix of nightmares and restlessness.

Her growing collection of ghosts spent it, pecking at her rest like vultures stripping meat from bone. She'd done her best to resist, but it was futile.

It always was.

Cedar, Ethan, Ruby, Mia, Kai, Aaron... and of course, there was always Silus. He would stand to the side, watching her torture silently while she ached to be able to speak to him again.

The real him.

"Wanna talk about it?" Leo breathed the question from the seat next to her.

She nearly sprang out of her skin. He hadn't looked at her, had hardly spoken to her, not since they each had their one-on-ones with Snow. Over the last twelve hours, he'd drifted, like he was trapped in a place no one could follow.

In a way, she understood. She had been less than talkative herself after her last interaction with the aggravating senator. The mere thought of their last conversation cast shivers down her spinal column.

Yet, of everywhere she'd been lately, nothing had unsettled her more than her own mind. And she was starting to wonder how much longer it would hold together.

Swallowing down a litany of questions, she replied, "Not really." She meant the opposite, but that didn't matter. He didn't look at her as she addressed him further, "You've been quiet yourself. Maybe I should be asking you the same thing."

He stared out the train window. "My answer would match yours, I suppose."

"Perfect." Sable huffed from across the room, "Then let's just enjoy this train ride in silence."

Hazel's weariness had caused her to nearly forget about their audience. The rest of the group littered the main cabin's seats, all watching the frozen world whip by their individual windows.

Leo grimaced but didn't argue with Sable. Instead, he settled back into himself. Burrowing into his shell.

"God, this is sooo boring," Festus interjected. "I thought a Victory tour was going to be more fun. You think they would let us use a freaking hovercraft instead of these ridiculous, archaic trains." He ran an exasperated hand through his curls, "Traveling is not nearly as great as I thought it would be."

"What do you mean?" Bellona looked at the mentor quizzically, "You've been drunk like half the time."

Festus pointed at her like she'd just passed a test. "Exactly, Private Drayton. It should be at least seventy-five percent. Eighty if we have to keep sharing our ride with Trask."

Indira rolled her eyes. "You poor thing. Such hardship."

"I know." Festus sighed dramatically. "Does it really count as a vacation if you don't go home with mild liver damage?"