Filed To Story: Sunrise on the Reaping Book PDF Free
On top of this, we have eight prep team members, half of them in tears, totally preoccupied with how this will affect their grades and, consequently, their future job prospects. Drusilla returns, pissed because she was unable to file a complaint until after the Games. As an afterthought, she went to see if she could rouse Magno, but he didn’t answer his door and she thinks he might be dead, which is the only thing that’s keeping her going. Except maybe that quart bottle of rum she’s knocking back in the kitchen. Wiress and Mags try to focus our minds on our interviews, but the general commotion makes that impossible.
The noise drowns out the ping of the arriving elevator, so she seems to appear out of thin air. A young woman with lavender hair, a dress like a grape gumball, and green checked stockings. Four black hats stacked on her head, clothes bags draped over her arms, she wheels a cart of spiky shoes into the center of the living room and announces, “Who’s ready for a big, big, big day!”
SChapter 13
“Effie!” cries Proserpina, flinging herself into the newcomer’s arms.
Effie pats her back. “Well, I’m not going to let my baby sister – or her friends! – fail because some slackard didn’t do his job!”
All the prep teams break into cheers or tears or both as they crowd around her. She accepts the adulation, but then gets serious. “Listen, everybody. There is something bigger than you and me happening here. As we all know, the Hunger Games are a sacred ceremony of remembrance for the Dark Days. A lot of people lost their lives to guarantee peace and prosperity for our nation. And this is our chance – no, it is our duty
– to honor them!”
Well, she’s swallowed the Capitol propaganda hook and took the line and sinker with it, but at least she’s brought us some decent footwear. She begins unzipping bags. “When you called, Prosie, at first, I didn’t know what to do, and then I thought,
Great-Aunt Messalina!”
“Great-Aunt Messalina!” crows Proserpina. “She never throws anything out!”
“A lot of it’s really old, but fortunately all the war-era styles are back in fashion,” explains Effie. She holds up a black lace dress with matching gloves. “And there’s loads of black because there were so many funerals.”
“You – are – brilliant – Effie – Trinket!” sputters Vitus.
“I confess to having a moment,” says Effie. “Don’t worry, boys, Great-Uncle Silius was no slouch in the threads department either.”
He certainly wasn’t, and even better, he seemed to be roughly the same size as Wyatt and me, with a few adjustments. We find a tuxedo for Wyatt and a three-piece suit with a rakish vest embroidered with cocktail glasses for me. Just the thing for a rascal. Or a bootlegger. By the time I’ve added a roomy pair of patent leather shoes and eight-ball cuff links on my white silk shirt, I look slick as a whistle.
“Clothes make the man,” says Effie with satisfaction, giving me an approving pat on the shoulder. At least the Trinkets aren’t mean, just clueless, which makes for a big improvement over Drusilla and Magno. The girls look sensational, too, with Lou Lou in the black lace dress, expertly pinned up to fit her, and Maysilee in an off-the-shoulder velvet gown, a boa, and the black lace gloves. I know we’re being prettied up for slaughter, but at least we might have some sponsors now.
“Who could believe they’re from District Twelve? It was really nice of your great-aunt to let you borrow everything,” says Vitus.
“Well, she owes us after all the disgrace she brought to the name of Trinket. We’ll be recovering from that for years,” Effie says, crinkling her brow. “If even only half the stories are true . . .”
Vitus puts a consoling arm around her and says, “You don’t pick your ancestors.” Then his voice drops to a shamed whisper. “My grandfather was a rebel sympathizer.”
“You win,” concedes Effie. “But look at you now!”
When Drusilla swings out of the kitchen, she does a double take at our outfits. “What happened here?”
“My sister!” beams Proserpina, nudging Effie forward.
“Oh, it was a privilege to dress them for Panem,” says Effie modestly.
Drusilla’s face twists through a range of expressions – confusion, relief, admiration, with bitterness ultimately winning. “These cannot be credited to Magno. You.” She grabs Effie by the arm. “You’re coming with us, and I’m telling everyone you’re responsible.”
“But – I don’t even have a backstage pass,” objects Effie.
“That, at least, I can remedy.” Drusilla waves us toward the door. “Come on, you lot, let’s try to make it to at least one event on time.”
Proserpina shoves a makeup box into Effie’s hands. “Touch-ups!”
“I’m on it,” promises Effie. “For everybody!” She gives Lou Lou, who’s baring her teeth, a worried look. “Maybe a lighter shade of lipstick for you.”
“And tone down the blush,” says Maysilee.
“Exactly,” agrees Effie. For a moment, they’re just two girls on a mission to beautify the world. Effie holds up a compact for her opinion. “I’m thinking maybe a peach?”
“Much better.”
“Hold on.” Effie reaches over and removes a broken feather from Maysilee’s boa. “There. You’re perfect.”
“Is my mascara okay?”
“Yes, but I can see it’d be a problem with those long lashes of yours.” Effie digs in the makeup box and hands her a little pad. “Take this in case it smudges.”
Drusilla starts to haul Effie to the elevator, sending the makeup box to the floor. It cracks open and tubes of color roll across the burnt-orange carpet. I lean over and collect them, returning it all to Effie, who looks slightly surprised.
“Thank you, Haymitch,” she says. “That was very considerate, especially given your circumstances.”
“Well, thank you for bringing us some dress-up clothes.”
“You deserve to look beautiful tonight,” Effie replies. “And I think you’re all being very brave.”
New Book: Returned To Make Them Pay
On her wedding anniversary, Alicia is drugged and stumbles into the wrong room—straight into the arms of the powerful Caden Ward, a man rumored never to touch women. Their night of passion shocks even him, especially when he discovers she’s still a virgin after two years of marriage to Joshua Yates.