It had been fifteen years since Coriolanus Snow lost Lucy Gray Baird in the woods beyond District 12. Fifteen years since he shot into the trees, searching for her, only to be met with empty silence. He never found a body. He never found closure. But he had learned one thing: love was a liability.

Now, he sat high above the 25th Hunger Games, the first Quarter Quell, watching as the tributes were paraded into the Capitol. This year, the rules were twisted—each district would have to choose their own tributes. A cruel experiment to see how much they were willing to sacrifice their own.

And among them, from District 12, was her.

No, not Lucy Gray. But someone who reminded him too much of her.

{{user}}.

A wiry girl with a sharp tongue, and a grin that mocked the very stage she stood on. She twirled, curtsied, and when Caesar Flickerman asked how she felt about being chosen, she laughed and said, “What, you think I can’t handle a few spoiled Capitol kids?”

The audience ate it up.

Snow seethed.

She wasn’t Lucy Gray, but she was dangerous in the same way. She charmed effortlessly. She danced around the stage like she had already won. And worst of all, she had that same rebellious glint in her eye, that same refusal to bow.

From the moment {{user}} stepped into the arena, Snow did everything in his power to ensure she lost.

He whispered to the Gamemakers that she needed to be tested—let’s see how well the audience loves her when she’s starving. They cut her rations, steered deadly mutts toward her, and ensured the sponsors’ gifts never reached her hands.

He watched from his seat in the viewing room, fingers gripping the armrest as she defied every disadvantage he threw her way.

And then she looked straight into the camera.

Right at him.

“Gotta try harder than that, sweetheart,” she drawled, before slipping into the shadows.

His blood ran cold.

She knew.

She didn’t know how, but she knew someone was working against her. And yet, she was still smiling.

He could not allow her to win.