The night air on the rooftop was bitingly cold, but the tension was colder. We were halfway through discussing the plan with Finnick when the heavy metal door to the roof groaned open.
Finnick's hand went instinctively to the hidden knife in his belt. David scrambled behind me, his small fingers digging into my jacket. "Mama," he whispered, his voice trembling as he sought cover.
A Peacekeeper stepped into the pale moonlight. He was dressed in the standard, sterile white armor of the Capitol, but as he reached up to unlatch his helmet, his sleeve pulled back just enough to reveal a sliver of skin.
My heart skipped a beat. Wrapped around his wrist was a fine, light silver chain. It was delicate—thin enough to be ignored by a casual observer, but unmistakable to me. I had crafted these links back in District 12, gifting them to the Peacekeepers who showed us mercy.
The guard pulled off his helmet, revealing the face of Darius.
"Zinnia," he said, his voice raspy but steady. He held up his wrist so the light silver caught the moon. "I'm not here to cause trouble. I just... I had to tell you."
He stepped closer, the sterile white of his uniform looking wrong against the warmth in his eyes. "We're all still wearing them. Every guard from Twelve who was reassigned here to the Capitol... we haven't taken them off once. Not even under the armor."
I felt a lump form in my throat. I had wanted to create a bridge, but I hadn't realized how far it stretched.
"And it's not just us," Darius whispered. "I wanted you to know that the families back home—our wives, our parents, our siblings—they all received the chains you sent. Every single one of them wears it, Zinnia. They don't stop wearing them. Even when the Peacekeeper commanders walk by, they keep them on."
"The Gamemakers are still clueless," Darius said with a ghost of a smirk. "They see the silver on the monitors and they think it's just a district 'good luck charm.' They have no idea it's a mark of who we actually answer to. They think they brought us here to keep you in line, but the families sent us with one message: Remember the girl who gave us the silver."
He didn't offer a map or a plan. He didn't promise to cut the power. He simply stood there, a witness to the fact that I wasn't alone.
"We're watching over you as best we can," he said, putting his helmet back on. The visor snapping shut, hiding the friend and leaving only the soldier. "Just know that back home, the silver hasn't tarnished. They're waiting for you."
He turned and marched back toward the door, the standard white armor hiding the silver-linked heart underneath.
I looked at David, who was staring at the door with wide, hopeful eyes.
"He's a good man, Mama," David whispered.
"He's part of a very large family, David," I corrected, my heart feeling heavier and lighter all at once. "And the Capitol is about to find out that you can't break a chain they don't even know exists."