Chapter 1

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So much has happened since I won the Hunger Games. I’d expected things to go back to normal, but instead, my life went downhill. 

When I returned home, I invited my parents to move into the Victor’s Penthouse with me. They said no. Then, they disowned me! It was the heaviest blow since being reaped. 

When I asked them why, Dad said, “You could have won the Games without killing. Look at Joules. She didn’t hurt a soul and she made it far. I’d rather have seen you die than see you end the lives of four people.”

Like he wouldn’t have done the same thing.

“Why did you have to be so heartless?” Mom asked me through a veil of tears. “The kids you killed did nothing to you.”

They’ll never understand. How would they like it if their fate was decided for them? That’s how it felt when I went into the arena. I tried to explain myself, but you know how hard that is for me now. I miss mom and dad every day because of it. If that wasn’t bad enough, almost nobody in District 3 takes me seriously anymore. They don’t even care that my brain injury only affected my speech. I’m still as intelligent as I ever was. But every little laugh, snicker, every demeaning comment, just makes my self-esteem plummet farther down. And the tributes I’ve mentored didn’t help. They poked fun at my incomplete sentences. So much for showing victors respect.

Thankfully, there’s been a bright spot. Beetee.  Even under the threat of my possible death, I fell hard for him. By the time I took off on my Victory Tour, we were inseparable.  He’d come over nearly every day when living alone in my new apartment got depressing. Then, when I was twenty-two, he proposed to me. That’s right. I became Mrs. Beetee Kurtz! We have a son now. Beck Cameron Kurtz. 

Here we are now, twenty years since my victory. Beetee steps inside our apartment after a long day doing repair work around the city, with Beck by his side. Beck’s got milky brown skin, my blue eyes, and Beetee’s dark hair. At thirteen years old, he’s already taller than both of us. When Beck’s not at school, Beetee takes him on his house calls so that he can learn how to become a repair technician. I get up from my couch seat with a giant smile.  

“Hey Wiress,” Beetee asks, “Remember what today is?” He picks me up, spinning me around.

“’Course,” I say, blushing. Beetee knows I remember, but he just wants to make me say it. “Our fifteen anniversary!” I stand on my tiptoes to kiss him.

“Fifteen years with my beautiful wife. I couldn’t ask for anything better.” He gestures to Beck, who’s holding a bouquet of fifteen roses. “I got one for each year. How about fifteen more?”

“You bet,” I tell him. We’re both still smiling like crazy.

Beck hands me the bouquet. “These are for you, mom. Happy anniversary!”

“Thank you.” I sniff the roses, one of my all-time favorite smells. Then I hand Beetee a small box with his anniversary present inside: a watch that has the emblem of District 3 engraved on it.

He kisses my forehead. “What a perfect watch. Did you put it together yourself?”

I nod.

“Thanks, darling.”  He immediately fits the watch onto his wrist, and it looks even better than I hoped it would.  

Now I have some bigger news to give. I’ve been aching to say it since I found out yesterday. “Beetee? Beck? I went to…”

“The doctor.” Beetee knows he’s right, because we’re that good at communicating. It’s a big reason why I love him. He can always finish my sentences. “What did you visit the doctor for? Don’t tell me you’re sick.”

“No.” 

“Good.” It doesn’t take long for him to figure it out. He covers his mouth in surprise. “Wiress… are you pregnant?”

“Yes,” I say. A bittersweet tone flows from my voice.

Beetee’s been struck by silence. I can tell we’re both already thinking the same thing: Beck’s already at reaping age. Having another kid will be the best thing we’ve experienced in years, but what if he or she is chosen for the Games one day? They don’t count out the children of victors.

Beck’s eyes are lit up at this news. “Really, mom? I’m going to get a sibling?”

“Yeah.”

He smothers me in a giant hug. “I’ll help you take care of him. Or her. I promise.”

“I know.”

“It caught me off-guard,” Beetee admits, “but really, this is amazing. Now we have two things to celebrate! By the way, did you find out the gender?”

I can really smile about this. “Girl.”

“She’ll be just as pretty as you, of course.” He pokes my belly. I let out a small giggle. “Why not use Joules in her name somewhere?”

A small tear rolls down my cheek at the thought of my sister. “A wonderful idea. Middle name, probably.”

“If that’s what you want. Now we just have to figure out her first name.”

“What about Beta?” Beck suggests.

I reply, “I’ll think about…”

Beetee sighs. “Here it goes.” He leads us to the couch, picks up the remote and turns on our television. I can tell he’s tensing up. So am I. It’s time for the only thing that could hamper our happiness: the Quarter Quell announcement.  Beck settles himself down next to me. He’s even more nervous, if that were possible. This is the only downside to being a mom: watching your kid go through the reaping process. And the Quarter Quell is “special”.

President Snow appears at the podium. I grip Beetee’s hand tightly, wondering what kind of torture Snow will put the tributes through.  Beck takes my other hand. After reminding us of the past Quarter Quells, we watch as Snow takes out the Third Quarter Quell card. I’m shaking now.

“As a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol,” he says, “the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors.”           

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Beetee says under his breath. He looks completely stunned. I don’t blame him. Nobody in the country could’ve seen this coming.

Beck’s eyes widen. “What? What did he just say? T-that… that can’t be right….” His face falls.

All I do is stare into space. Then, everything rushes out of me at once. I press my face in Beetee’s chest, sobbing. He strokes my hair gently.

“We’ll be okay, Wiress.”

He knows that’s a big fat lie. Nothing’s okay. He’s just trying to pretend this isn’t really happening. In District 3, there are two other female victors besides me, and only one other man besides Beetee. Not very good odds.

Beck is beside himself. “No. They can’t put you both back in there. They can’t!” He runs away to his room, but not before I see his eyes begin to water.

I never thought it would happen, but soon enough, I’m preparing for my second reaping. Standing beside me is Kami, who is in her fifties. The other woman is Mira, who became victor about eight years after I did. The other male victor, Gavin, is elderly and only gets around by a motor chair. I wouldn’t be surprised if Beetee volunteers for him.

Ty puts his hand in the reaping bowl and calls my name. I start screaming, running around in circles, wanting this bad dream to go away. But I’m wide awake.  

When I finally calm down enough to walk up to the platform, I keep looking back at the other two women. I don’t want either of them to volunteer for me, though. They’ve become my new family since I moved into the Victor’s Penthouse.

My breath nearly stops when Ty pulls out the name of the male tribute.

“Beetee Kurtz.”

I totally lose it now. I have to leave my son behind, and I must return to the arena with my husband and my unborn child.

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