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vol i
chapter fifteen

As the winner of the Seventy-second Hunger Games is announced, its victor falls unconscious, Theia's grip on her rope loosening and her frame slumping forward.

The adrenaline had worn out, and the state of Theia's condition began to become glaringly apparent. She was not responsive when the huge set of metal teeth dropped down, slowly lifting her into the air and pulling her inside the hovercraft.

For seven long days, the District 3 champion stayed in a medically induced coma, unaware of her surroundings and oblivious to the fact that Rafael Whitlaw had stood guarding her room for the entire period. The mentor was incessant in making sure that the girl was not left to the devices of the Capitol—that they would not be able to get their hands on her while he was there to stop them.

Rafael was unyielding, not moving from his post. Eventually, lack of sleep got to the man, and he only agreed to rest if someone he trusted shielded the door; on multiple occasions, that had been Beetee or even Haymitch Abernathy, who felt like he owed the girl a great debt for how she had treated Milo.

When Theia woke, Rafael was there to comfort her. She had risen in a panic, frightened by the strange room and the tubes connected to her. She did not calm until she saw her mentor, who pulled his arms tightly around the girl. The emotions seemed to explode out of her as she sobbed into his shoulder.

"You did it, kid. You won."

News of her revival spread quickly, with Beetee and Ambrose promptly joining them.

The escort had been an emotional wreck, squeezing Theia and stroking her hair. "Oh dear, you did so well. I'm so proud of you." It was hard to remove the extravagantly dressed man from her, with tears falling dramatically from his eyes.

"You have no idea how loved you are, truly. People are absolutely obsessed with you; there hasn't been a reception like this to a victor in such a long time. They've nicknamed you Panem's prodigy, and I think that's just absolutely darling; it suits you so well."

It's hard to stop the rambling from pouring out. "There has been absolute uproar about the lack of news about your condition. Everyone's been waiting expectantly to see you."

Theia takes a deep breath. She knows her life has completely changed now, whether she was ready for it or not.

Beetee was more than elated at her success; he was the more calming presence out of the two. He was awestruck by her marvel of a plan. "Absolutely ingenious, I must say; the EMP generator was impeccable, with such limited resources too. No tribute has ever attempted anything like it; manipulating the devices of the arena is undoubtedly an outstanding feat."

Rafael seems to frown at his statement. "They're showing a front, but we all know the Capitol is furious. You made a fool out of them, kid; you played the Gamemakers at their own game and won."

"You've proven that the Capitol is beatable, that they can be outsmarted." He hesitates before continuing, unsure of how much to reveal. "Tensions have been rising in the outlying districts. You're an inspiration, a glimmer of hope." Rafael can't help the proud tone. "There have been riots in District 3. The lack of updates on your status riled the people; they want you back safe. We all know how much distrust our home has for the Capitol."

But he starts to deflate slightly, with visible worry showing on his face. "I just hope there won't be any drastic consequences; they won't let you get away with it so easily; you've got too much influence now."

Theia's face stays placid, with no hint of fear.

Rafael raises a questioning eyebrow. "You seem aware of this?"

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