The sun hadn't yet crested over the Capitol's jagged skyline when I woke. I left David sleeping—he needed every minute of rest before the public training session—and walked into the main living area.
A young woman was already there, moving with practiced, ghostly silence as she straightened the cushions and cleared the remains of last night's tea. She wore the crimson tunic of an Avox. When she heard my footsteps, she kept her head bowed low, her eyes fixed on the floor.
I watched her for a moment. She looked terrified, her shoulders tight with a tension I knew all too well. I stepped closer, moving into her line of sight. I didn't say a word until I was standing right beside her. I reached into my hair and slid out a sturdy, black bobby pin. I took her hand—it was cold and trembling—and pressed the metal into her palm.
"Keep this," I whispered, my voice barely a breath. "If you ever find yourself behind a door they've locked, this will get you out. It's a small thing, but it will keep you safe."
The woman froze, her head snapping up. Her eyes were wide, searchingly bright. She looked at the bobby pin, then back at me, a look of profound shock crossing her face. In this city, she was treated as furniture, but I was looking at her like she was a soldier.
She reached into a hidden pocket in her apron and pulled out a small scrap of lace and a charred stick of wood. She didn't write a warning about the arena—she wanted me to know who she was.
MIRA.
She looked at me, a small, sad smile touching her lips as she tucked the bobby pin into the hem of her sleeve. She began to write again, the charcoal scratching softly against the lace.
The nature station is real, she wrote. The forest is coming. Trust your eyes.
I nodded slowly, the confirmation settling in my gut. The greenery I had seen with David wasn't a trick; it was the blueprint. "Thank you, Mira."
She gripped my hand for a brief second, a silent connection forming that required no magic and no words. She wasn't just a servant anymore; she was one of mine.
"Zinnia? Is someone there?" Effie's voice rang out from the hallway, preceded by the sharp clack-clack-clack of her heels.
Mira didn't panic. She shoved the lace into my hand, her fingers brushing against mine as she closed my fist over her name. She immediately dropped into a deep bow, grabbed her polishing cloth, and began scrubbing the mahogany table with a ferocity that suggested she had been doing it for hours.
"Good morning, Zinnia! My, you're an early bird today!" Effie chirped, fluttering into the room in a cloud of lavender ruffles. "The first day of public training! We must make a splash! I hope you're ready to show those Careers that District 12 isn't just coal and dust."
I slipped the scrap of lace into my pocket, feeling the charcoal smudge against my thumb. Mira had given me the final piece of the puzzle.
"I'm ready, Effie," I said, watching the morning light hit the glass of the Capitol towers. "More than they know."