chapter four

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It had taken Serena a long time to let go of Roman's hand after the ceremony. She had held tightly onto it the whole elevator ride, and he had held just as desperately as she did.

Now, sitting at the dining table of the fourth floor, Roman let his palm settle over Serena's hand under the table. It's comforting as Brooke makes a dry and unthoughtful remark which has made both the tributes flinch at the harshness. He gently curls his fingers around her soft skin before retreating his hand and going back to eating his food.

Finnick isn't at dinner and Mags only comments that he must still be attending business with President Snow. Serena is still unsure how she deciphered Mags' slurred and garbled words, but she's pleased she did. Settled around their table are the two tributes, Andonis, Brisa, Mags, Kai, Dyra and Brooke. Ford and Moorey are yet to make an appearance but the other mentors seem relieved at this despite the tributes' worries.

"And the best way to make it not so obvious that it's poisoned?" Roman asks Brooke, their mentor that is skilled in food knowledge. The woman looks as if she is edging into her 60s, but Serena knows she is exactly 20 years younger than their oldest mentor, Mags.

"Oh there's plenty of ways." Brooke waves her hand as she picks up her glass of red wine and sips it thoughtfully, trying to figure out which is the best way. "Leaving food by a fire that's still smoking is probably the best way. If you're trying to take down careers, your fire will draw them in and they're not exactly the best at sourcing their own food. You could make it look abandoned, so they think you've heard them and desperately ran off. They'll gather the food and head off to hunt you down, but you'll be two steps ahead of them."

"And any others?" Serena asks as she spoons the last of her chocolate mousse into her mouth.

"By dropping it." Kai enters the conversation and he looks relieved to have escaped Brisa and Andonis' chatter with Mags and Dyra.

"Surely that won't work, if you're running away from them, they're not going to stop and pick up your food." Roman tries, flawing Kai's idea.

"Not if you're smart about it." Brooke argues, draining her glass and letting the alcohol stain her lips a deep red. "If you are invited to the feast at the end of the ceremony, that's the best opportunity to drop food. Recently, the gamemakers have started giving tributes things they need, not food. Whilst picking up your package, you could skilfully drop something just as someone else tries to get their own. You could curse yourself and they'll know it's valuable."

"You did that, didn't you?" Serena questions Kai as he had initiated the idea. The girl had watched his tape numerous times as combat school ensured you knew every move of their existing victors.

"I wasn't successful, however." He says bluntly before looking between his two tributes. "When dealing with food in the arena, it's difficult to tell who has been feeding themselves and who hasn't. You can only pull it off if you're really smart, so don't try anything too complex, because the other tributes will see something is wrong."

Serena nods her head softly and let's her body slouch slightly in her chair. "Is that it for tonight?"

"Yes, it is." She's relieved and can't wait to get between the soft sheets of her bed later. But she knows strategies will be talked about in the evening with Dyra, but secretly, both tributes are hoping to avoid their eager mentor.

Serena is about to excuse herself when Finnick comes trudging into the room, frame hunched and exhausted. His hair is sticking up in all directions but it looks as if he's tried to flatten it somehow. When he catches her eye, she notices how tired he looks, eyes ashamed yet too fatigued to hide it. The girl isn't sure why he's in this state until she catches sight of his shirt, buttoned up but it's uneven and as if it's been done in a hurry with shaky hands. Then her eyes are drawn to the faint purple smudge of lipstick underneath his ear, which Finnick has obviously not noticed.

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