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Summary
Livvy eyed him haughtily. “I suppose you thought I’d jump at the chance of being considered for anything ever? That I’d be grateful to leave the only home I’ve ever known and go to a place filled with people who probably hate me?”
“I mean,” Plutarch started, flicking his hand to the side as he spoke, “your mother and sister have done very little to remove the stain from your family name. The legacy of terror. And torture. And death. I would’ve thought you’d jump at the chance to do some good. But if you have to think about it, by all means. Give me your answer at your earliest convenience.”
She stood up, red-faced and angry, but held her temper remarkably well, remembering that just a few minutes ago she’d wondered if he was going to announce her execution. She turned and walked to the door, pausing, her hand hesitating over the knob. Everything he’d said was true. She felt enormous guilt over the Hunger Games and the killings her grandfather had committed.
And father, she reminded herself. District 12. She closed her eyes, remembering a picture she’d once seen of the rubble. Without turning around, she said, “Alright. Yes. I accept the position.”
Series
- Part 2 of Fire and Blood