"Understand, Octavia was doing what's necessary." Indra says, sitting on a chair beside your stretcher. "Even if you got hurt."

She's right, Octavia, or Blodreina, as everyone calls her wasn't wrong to arrest you. But you had only taken some extra food. Yet, you were taken to the pit. You won, but barely.

It's not Indra's fault you're in the med bay, with a broken arm, a stab wound, and countless bruises, but it's hard not to blame her. She just watched and let it happen.