I have been home for almost a year when it happens. The Victory Tour has happened and passed. Soon it will be time for another Hunger Games. The Third Quarter Quell. I don’t look forward to it. At first I had thought I would, knowing what it was like I could watch it with different views, looking out for different things. But now it’s closer to the time, I do not want to see it. I don’t want to see the pain again.

Also, it will be a lot worse this time. The tribute will be victors this year. It was announced on TV a few weeks ago. At first I was scared that I would be sent back in again, but Seeder and the few other female victors of District 11 promised me that if I was reaped they would volunteer for me. They said I was too young to go through this all again so soon.

And you know what? I don’t mind being “too young”. It’s good for the Capitol to think I’m too young; maybe they’ll rethink the idea of the Games.

There is a ring at the doorbell. Three of my siblings rush to the door; they still haven’t gotten over the novelty of doorbells. I push them out of the way and usher them into the living room.

I open the door and see four people there: two I sort of recognise.

They are Haymitch and Cinna. Katniss’s mentor and stylist. Cinna is holding a small bundle.

The other two take me a second to figure out. One is a small girl with pale skin and hair. The other is a much older boy with dark hair. I vaguely recognise seeing them at the reaping last year. The girl, I think, is Katniss’s sister. I can’t think of where I know the boy from.

“Hello,” I say, politely. “May I help you?”

Katniss’s mentor opens his mouth to speak, but her stylist stops him.

“Hello Rue,” he says. “I’m Cinna, one of District 12’s stylists. This is Haymitch, the only District 12 victor. You’ve probably seen the two of us before.”

I nod.

“Great. This is Prim,” he points at the girl, “her sister was in the Hunger Games last year. I believe you knew her, Katniss her name was. This is Gale.” He points at the boy.

“I’m a family friend,” interjects Gale. “Also, I was Katniss’s boyfriend for a short time.”

Boyfriend? Katniss hadn’t even mentioned Gale when I’d known her.

I see Prim shake her head ever so slightly.

I’m so confused. What are they even doing here?

“We’d like to talk to you,” Cinna continues.

I start to open the door a little to let them in.

“We’d prefer to go on a walk to talk to you. We haven’t been to District 11 before, it’s very beautiful. I’ve made you a dress, by the way. I’d appreciate it if you’d wear it.”

“Thank you,” I say instinctively. He hands me the bundle.

“Prim, why don’t you go help her put it on?” he says.

“Would you three like to come in while I’m getting changed?” I ask, still confused.

“No, we’re fine, sweetheart,” Haymitch snorts.

I lead Prim upstairs to my bedroom. Such a novelty to have stairs: our old house only had a kitchen, a bathroom and a slightly larger room that could have been a living room if we hadn’t used it to sleep in. Perhaps Prim would be living in a house like mine if Katniss had won instead.

The dress that Cinna has given me looks almost the same as the one Prim is wearing. It is frilly, but not in too much of a girly way. It suits the both of us. Hers is a paler colour, to contrast less with her skin. Cinna really knows how to make anybody look good.

I don’t actually need help putting the dress on, but I’m glad that Prim and I are alone.

“What was Gale talking about?” I ask.

She sighs. “Since Katniss died, he’s been telling everyone things that weren’t true to get sympathy. It’s partly for his own selfishness,” she spits out the words, “and also partly because it makes people in the Capitol send us food every now and then. Not often enough to make it worth it, I think.”

When I have the dress on, Prim attaches a pin with a mockingjay on it, just like Katniss’s. That’s when I realise she is wearing one as well. I wonder if it is Katniss’s pin, or a new one. I decide not to ask.

We go back downstairs and I tell my parents that I’m going for a walk. We go back out the door to where Gale, Cinna and Haymitch are waiting for me.

We walk a little way from my house, and I cannot stand it anymore.

“What’s going on? Why do you want to talk to me?”

Haymitch sighs.

“In short, you weren’t supposed to win. Katniss was supposed to win and become the Mockingjay.”

Cinna interrupts him. “Rue, because Katniss is no longer with us, we want you to be the Mockingjay.”