Chapter One — The Day the Sky Went Quiet
The morning of the Reaping began the same way every terrifying year did: with a sky that looked too still, like the clouds were holding their breath. Sixteen-year-old Hayley Woods woke before sunrise, her heart already moving faster than her mind. She could feel the tension in the air the way animals sense storms—silent, heavy, impossible to ignore.
Her family’s home was small, crammed in the far corner of District Eleven-Delta, one of the agricultural districts forced to feed the Capitol. The wooden floorboards creaked beneath her bare feet as she got up, careful not to wake her little sister, Mae, who slept curled against the wall, her dark curls spread across the pillow like a halo.
Hayley paused for a moment, watching Mae’s soft breaths rise and fall. She wished she could freeze this moment. Keep Mae safe forever. But wishing had never changed anything in the Empire.
From the kitchen, she heard their mother moving around quietly—soft clinks of metal, the slow scrape of a spoon. Hayley slipped out of the bedroom, closed the door softly behind her, and stepped into the kitchen.
Her mother looked up, her tired eyes already lined with worry.
“You’re up early,” she said gently. “Couldn’t sleep?”
Hayley shook her head. “Did anyone?”
Her mother sighed, pressing a cracked ceramic mug into her hands. Inside was weak tea—nothing strong, but warm. “Drink. You’ll need something in your stomach.”
Outside, a siren wailed in the distance, signaling that everyone needed to prepare for the Reaping ceremony. Hayley swallowed tightly. Even after sixteen years of hearing that sound, it still made her hands shake.
Her mother reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from Hayley’s face. “You’ve been braver than you know,” she whispered.
Hayley forced a smile she didn’t feel. “I’m not brave.”
“You are,” her mother said firmly. “Brave isn’t about not being scared. It’s about standing up even when you are.”
Before Hayley could respond, a soft knock came from the back door.
She opened it to find Jordan Chase, his sandy-brown hair slightly damp from the morning mist, hands shoved awkwardly in his jacket pockets. He looked nervous—the kind of nervous that settled in your bones and refused to leave.
“Hey,” he said quietly.
“Hey.”
Jordan had been Hayley’s best friend since they could walk, but this year everything felt different—tense, fragile, unspoken. Maybe it was because they were both sixteen now, officially eligible for the Ashen Trials. Maybe it was because Hayley had started noticing the softness in his smile, or how he always positioned himself between her and danger even when danger was just a loud noise.
Or maybe it was because something between them had shifted—small, slow, but real.
“You ready?” Jordan asked, though his voice suggested he already knew the answer.
“Not even a little,” Hayley said.
He gave a soft, breathy laugh. “Me neither.”
They walked together through the dirt path leading toward the town square. Children, parents, and elders all shuffled in the same direction, their faces shadowed with dread. Peacekeepers in sleek steel-gray armor stood at every corner, weapons visible, expressions blank.
As Hayley and Jordan reached the square, the stage loomed ahead—massive, polished, too bright for such a grim event. Capitol banners hung on both sides, sharp reds and silvers that clashed with the dusty district around them.
“You think your name will be called?” Jordan asked suddenly.
Hayley swallowed. “I hope not. But with all the ration slips I had to take this year… my odds aren’t great.”
Jordan’s jaw tightened. “If they call you, I—”
He stopped.
She looked up at him. “You what?”
Jordan opened his mouth, hesitated, then said instead, “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
But it did matter. Hayley could hear the words he wasn’t saying.
If they call you, I’d volunteer.
And that terrified her more than anything.
The crowd settled as Ambassador Lira Solene, the Capitol’s representative, glided onto the stage in a sparkling silver gown that looked like it could slice skin if you touched it.
“Welcome, citizens of District Eleven-Delta!” she chimed, her voice falsely sweet. “Today, we gather to honor the sacred tradition of the Ashen Trials—the ultimate test of strength, resilience, and loyalty to our beloved Empire!”
No one clapped. No one even breathed loudly.
Ambassador Solene reached into the first glass bowl—the one filled with names of every girl aged twelve to eighteen.
Hayley felt Jordan’s fingers brush against hers.
She didn’t pull away.
The Ambassador lifted a slip, eyes lighting up as if she’d picked the winner of a lottery.
“This year’s female tribute is…”172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUoD3fBxyuN
She paused dramatically.
“Hayley Woods!”
The world tilted.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKV0WFscc9F
Mae’s face flashed in her mind.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2eHDOdX56G
Her mother’s hands trembling.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡb8e0CgDapD
Jordan’s quiet gasp beside her.
Hayley’s breath caught in her throat as the crowd slowly parted, all eyes turning to her.
Jordan’s hand closed around her wrist, firm, desperate.
“Hayley—don’t go up there alone,” he whispered.
But she had no choice.
She stepped forward, her legs numb, her pulse roaring in her ears. Each step felt like walking through wet cement.
She climbed the stairs.
Then Ambassador Solene moved to the bowl of male names.
She pulled one quickly, without theatrics this time.
“And the male tribute for this year’s Ashen Trials is… Jordan Chase!”
Hayley froze.
Jordan stood still for one breath, then another.
Then—172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDkfQy2QKAa
He looked at her.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpkTJRX3k41
And smiled. Soft. Certain. Almost peaceful.
“I guess you’re not doing this alone after all,” he whispered before walking toward the stage.
Hayley’s heart broke in a way she didn’t know hearts could.
As he joined her onstage, his shoulder brushed hers.
Two tributes.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQsBzuhPJF9
One arena.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxz3cosp1uU
A cruel government watching.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqFMyd2sjat
And only one victor allowed.
Hayley swallowed hard.
She wasn’t letting Jordan die for her.172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHNB0PDFGi0
If she had to survive the Ashen Trials…172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmEQqcjBLrz
If she had to tear down the Empire itself…
So be it.
172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoIFtYCLPYE
and then Add to home screen.