The train was a marvel of Capitol excess—velvet walls, crystal chandeliers, and more food than most Seam families saw in a lifetime. I spent the first hour exploring every inch of the massive machine, memorizing the layout. If I were going to break this system, I needed to know every exit.
When the train finally lurched forward, I made my way to the living room. Haymitch Abernathy was slumped in a chair, the scent of white liquor clinging to him. Effie sat nearby, looking distressed, while David Hart was huddled on the couch, his eyes red and raw.
"Umm... David, yeah?" I asked.
He looked up, wiping his face. "Y...yeah... Zinnia, right?"
"Yeah. Could you come with me?" I kept my voice confident yet soft. He stood up and followed me back to my compartment.
Once the door was shut, I turned to him. "Alright, David, do you have your token for the Hunger Games yet?"
"No," he whispered.
"Don't worry. I have a plan to make sure you survive these games."
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small, smooth black stone pendant on a simple leather cord. It looked like a humble piece of the earth, but it hummed with a protective warmth. I placed it in his hand.
"This is your token. Keep it close to your heart," I told him. I explained the plan—how the stone would guide him and how we would outsmart the arena.
For the next few hours, I became his teacher. We re-watched the Reapings from the other Districts, analyzing the Careers. Then, I began to teach him Sign Language. Simple things: Stop. Danger. Hide. Food. A secret tongue for the arena. We spent the rest of the evening practicing martial arts and knife-wielding.
"If you can't fight, you move," I told him, guiding his stance. "You're thin, David. Use that. Be the wind."
Later, I returned to the main carriage. Haymitch was staring at his glass. I sat across from him and let a pulse of Life's gift move toward him—a cooling wave that washed away the fog of the alcohol. He blinked, his eyes focusing with startling clarity. He set the glass down, untouched.
I turned to Effie, who was fussing with her silk scarf. I reached out and gently touched her arm, offering a warm, genuine smile. "Effie, you have such a wonderful eye for detail. I was thinking... for the Capitol, could we present David and me as adopted siblings? I know we have different names, but I've taken him under my wing. I want the world to see us as a family that found each other in the dark."
Effie's eyes brightened, her face softening at the "friendliness" I was showing her. She looked at me not as a tribute, but as a confidante. "Oh, Zinnia! Adopted siblings... the 'Found Family of Twelve.' It's absolutely tragic and yet so... so elegant. It shows such character! The Capitol will simply adore you for your heart."
"Then it's settled," I said, looking at Haymitch.
Haymitch presided over the table, his head clear and his expression serious. "If you can keep me this sharp, sweetheart, I'll get you the sponsors. You play the big sister, and I'll play the shark. We'll make sure they don't just see two kids—they'll see a team."
I spent the rest of the night talking with them, truly getting to know Effie's dreams and Haymitch's hard-won wisdom. I wasn't just a tribute anymore; I was the head of a very dangerous, very determined family.