Timber

Chapter Thirty: Deserted Truths

As Hazel grappled with Aaron's revelation, her emotions teetered on the brink of a chasm so deep it threatened to swallow her whole. An informant? The word felt like a poison seeping into the cracks of her trust. It was a concept so foreign and yet, as Aaron spoke, disturbingly plausible. A wave of nausea crept up, unbidden, as if her body rejected the truth even as her mind raced to piece together the fragmented reality Aaron painted.

"But he hates the Capitol," she whispered back to him, her voice was barely audible above the crackle of the fire, "Not to mention the peacekeepers." Memories of long diatribes from Heath about the failures of the Capitol filled her mind. As well as numerous memories of his colorful interactions with their district's peacekeepers. More than once he had been detained for his behavior. But he was always released after he had been allowed to sober up.

Aaron's words floated to her in a soft murmur, his light green eyes catching the dance of the flames, casting shadows and light across his face in a haunting rhythm. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

The reply only fueled the fire of Hazel's uncertainty, igniting a flurry of questions within her. She shook her head, a gesture not just of disbelief but of trying to dislodge the shock that settled like frost on her thoughts. The flickering firelight painted her face with a warm glow, but it did little to chase away the cold dread creeping into her heart. Questions swirled in her mind like leaves caught in a whirlwind, each one echoing Aaron's hauntingly calm declaration. Her eyes darted to his, searching for something—anything—that might anchor her to the reality she thought she knew.

How did he manage to gather information? Why would he ever work with the Capitol, the very entity that led to Cedar's death in the Hunger Games? Had Heath overstepped some boundary with the Capitol, turning from an asset to a liability? 

She rubbed her temples hard, the pressure of her fingertips against her skin a feeble attempt to push away the tears threatening to spill. But despite her efforts to stifle her emotions, they welled up within her with a force she could scarcely contain. Swallowing down her questions, she glanced at Silus, finding no surprise in his expression, only a deep concern etched across his face.

"I can understand why I would be chosen in the reaping. But if Heath is helping the Capitol, why would she also be chosen?" Silus's voice was barely above a mumble, echoing the questions swirling in Hazel's mind.

Aaron's response, a solemn shake of his head and a sympathetic gaze, failed to soothe the tempest raging within her. "That is a good question," he conceded, his eyes holding a depth of pity as they lingered on Hazel. "And one only Heath can answer."

Hazel sat there, the warmth of the fire doing little to comfort her as she felt her world crumbling. The revelation of her father's potential involvement in their predicament tore at her, leaving her grappling with a betrayal too immense to comprehend.  How could he do this? How could he let his desire for revenge put her at risk? Did he ever care for her at all?

At that moment, Hazel rose to her feet, the overwhelming need to flee consuming her senses. She strove to maintain an appearance of calmness in front of Aaron and Silus. But she suspected she was failing miserably.

Aaron's voice cut through her turmoil, gentle yet laden with regret. "I didn't mean to upset you," he said, his eyes tracking her every move, "but you deserve to know the truth." Definitely failing. 

Hazel bit her lip, fighting back the swell of emotions. "I asked for it, didn't I?" Her gaze darted around, settling on anything but the concerned faces before her. "Just curious, how do you even know all this?"

Aaron sighed, the weight of memories clouded his eyes. "Dad and I... we're close. After my mom passed, it was just the two of us." His voice held a raw edge, the words heavy with unspoken stories. "He's always been open with me, believing I'd step into his shoes as mayor someday." The last words hung between them, tinged with a bitterness.