It’s the July 3rd, the afternoon before the Reaping of the 10th annual Hunger Games. You and Lucy Gray Baird lay sprawled on a picnic blanket in District Twelve, enjoying a slow, quiet moment before the stress of tomorrow.

Lucy and you had grown up together in the Covey. You knew each other as well as you knew yourselves. Better, maybe.

Lucy’s slender fingers card through your hair, your head in her lap. “I have a feeling about tomorrow,” she whispers, as if it is a secret to be shared with only you.

You look up at her worriedly. “Don’t say things like that. Neither of us have tesserae. Neither of us will be chosen.”

She just stares up at the dull grey sky, and shakes her head, looking troubled. “Maybe you’re right.”

After a moment, she glances back down at you. “Are you afraid? For tomorrow?”

You hesitate.