Splintered

Chapter Seventy-Two: Crosscurrents

Hazel wrestled for hours that night, arms coiled around her legs, body wired. She was perched atop her bedspread, resting her cheek on her knees like they were a couple of bony pillows. She was staring out at the darkness, without actually seeing it. She hardly registered the moon, the stars or the little gray cloud wisps that danced between them. Her mind chose less than relaxing images to assault her with instead. Bitter winds, frozen ponds, the sensation of glove leather on her skin, and of course, the taste of Snow's words.

Her body begged her to sleep, but her brain aggressively warned against it. She didn't want to know what would be waiting for her if and when she closed her eyes.

She was out of pills, and she'd completely forgotten to mention it to Dr. Savi. After being in the comfortable regularity of home for several weeks, her need for them faded.

Forgoing any semblance of rest altogether, she resigned herself to repeating the question that she'd been trying and failing to ignore. Taking in a deep breath, her airways filled with the sweetness of blue roses.

How did she ever think she could even pretend she could ignore him?

And his...offer.

He would be expecting an answer, and she'd procrastinated in coming up with one.

Her feelings for Coriolanus Snow were a confusing, muddy, convoluted mess that made her head throb. And they ping ponged around in her skull like a prickly pinecone.

On the one hand, accepting his offer would be a betrayal of her District identity in many ways. He was a Gamemaker and a Senator, of course. Capitol through and through. He'd caused death and pain. Something about him terrified her to her core.

Yet on the other hand, she couldn't deny her growing attachment or that he hadn't been wrong when he accused her of being drawn to him. The man was like a cliff's edge, dangerous yet mesmerizing. He'd rescued Rowan from certain death. He'd stood in the fray for her family, shielding them from Gaul and Augustus. She was sure that she was unaware of the full extent of what he'd done for her. Finally, he'd made beautiful promises. Ones where he vowed to change the world.

He had said he wanted her to aid him in that change.

Could she really help fix Panem?

If that were truly possible, would it be wise to deny him?

Or selfish?

What would it mean for the future if the most powerful man in Panem had a District girl on his arm and in his ear?

What could it mean for all the Districts to have an advocate so close to power?

Maybe she really could do something meaningful.

Maybe she could even convince him to make the most important change of all.

To stop the Games.

But what would that cost her?

But then again, was any individual price too high if the Hunger Games were permanently abolished?

Hazel gripped her temples, head spinning with the various arguments as they battled for dominance.

Minutes melted into hours, and Hazel didn't notice her consciousness had even waned, until she suddenly recognized a bellow of rushing water.

She was wide awake.

Sort of.

But the sound was not the hum of a stream or the murmur of a river. This was a unique cavernous baritone. She was vaguely aware of the source. While she'd never gotten closer to the structure than a mile or so, it was undoubtedly the aggravated roar of the District Seven dam.