The panic collapses into a silent terror when Drusilla Sickle, annoyed, shakes her bloodstained hands and yells at the Peacekeepers:

—Clean up this mess! We need another name!

Without losing her composure, she turns back to the boys' bowl and plunges her hand in with theatrical flair. Everyone holds their breath. The revolt has made something clear: District 12 has had enough. But the Capitol’s will is unshakable.

Finally, Drusilla pulls out a slip and slowly unfolds it.

—Haymitch Abernathy.

Fury turns to horror. Haymitch feels his stomach collapse. He knows what just happened. This wasn’t chance. His name was the Capitol’s answer to the rebellion: a punishment. A reminder that no one is safe.

Second Part: A Sentence in an Envelope

The Reaping stage is an altar of sacrifice. Haymitch feels the weight of hundreds of eyes on him as Effie Trinket claps with false enthusiasm.

—We have our male tribute from District 12!

Beside him, a thirteen-year-old girl sobs: the female tribute. No one volunteers to save her. No one ever does in District 12.