Timber

Chapter Six: Snow's Announcement

Hazel's heart thundered in her chest as the Peacekeeper's commanding voice pierced the evening stillness. She turned to face him, her breath catching in her throat. He stood tall and imposing, his hand resting on the weapon at his belt.

"All citizens are required to be off the streets. Orders from the Capitol. What are you doing out? It's past curfew," he demanded.

Hazel managed a faint, nervous chuckle. "Just running a bit late, officer," she replied, her voice tinged with a forced casualness. She gestured towards her home, the porch light casting a small island of warmth just a short distance away. "My house is right there. I just lost track of time; you know how it is."

The Peacekeeper's gaze was unwavering, his eyes hidden behind the reflective visor of his helmet. His posture remained rigid. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribcage, each beat echoing loudly in her ears.

Hazel forced a weak smile, "I guess my time management could use some work, huh?" A slight stiff tilt of his head was the only sign he had even heard her.

"Let me see your identification."

She hastened to comply, her fingers trembling as they rummaged through her pockets. Extracting her identification card, she extended it towards him.

"My name is Hazel Marlowe," she stated, her voice carrying a feigned confidence.

The Peacekeeper accepted the card with a practiced motion, his scrutiny intensifying as he examined it under the dim streetlight. Hazel stood rigidly, her breaths shallow and quick, as she watched him scrutinize her details. The chill of the night seemed to seep deeper into her bones, exacerbating the tense wait.

His eyes lifted from the card to meet Hazel's. She held his gaze, her body tense with anticipation.

"Well, Ms. Marlowe, it is past curfew, and the Capitol was very clear about the rules. This is non-negotiable, even if you are Oren Starling's daughter," he declared, his voice firm and unyielding. Hazel's heart sank at his words, a sense of dread settling over her.

Without breaking eye contact, the Peacekeeper reached up to his shoulder, speaking into his radio. Hazel's ears picked up the static crackle as he requested backup.

Hazel glanced over the officer's shoulder, noting the approach of two more Peacekeepers.

"Sir, I apologize. I'm not trying to break the Capitol's rules. My home is just right there." Hazel's plea was tinged with desperation. 

As the two additional Peacekeepers joined the conversation. Hazel's heart sank as she noticed one of them pulling out handcuffs, the metallic glint in the fading light sending a wave of panic through her. 'This can't be happening'.

Just then, the familiar sound of her home's front door opening broke through the tension. Hazel turned, her eyes catching the sight of her stepfather, Oren, emerging with his characteristic smooth unhurried gait. Her mother, Fern, stood on the porch, her face an unreadable mask of emotions.

Oren, with his robust frame and an air of authority, approached the group of Peacekeepers. "Good evening, officers," he greeted them, his voice calm and controlled, yet carrying an undercurrent of authority. "I see our Hazel has caused a bit of a stir. You know how it is with young people and their sense of time these days."

The lead Peacekeeper, while still maintaining his authoritative stance, seemed to soften slightly under Oren's charismatic approach. "Mr. Starling," he acknowledged, a hint of respect in his tone. "Curfew is curfew."

Oren chuckled lightly, a sound that seemed to briefly lighten the tense atmosphere. "Absolutely, officer. I understand she is cutting it awfully close. But as I see it, she still has two minutes to spare before the curfew officially begins. "