My head pounds and I'm gasping for air. I try to pull up memories of what my mother had said about him, but I couldn't think of anything. I knew he had left soon after I was born, and I knew my mother had been married to him, but she barely spoke a word about him, and if she did, it was short and snappy, and she changed the subject quickly.

I had always assumed he was dead. But here he was.

I close my eyes, taking deep breaths in and out, trying to calm the pace of my heart.

"What are you talking about Melanie?" Katniss asks.

I swallow the lump in my throat and look up at the man again. He still wears the smirk.

"He's my father."

Katniss looks confused and dazed, while the man, Zane, looks me in the eyes and his gaze certains it all.

Suddenly, a memory surges inside me. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and let it envelop me.

I was young, five, almost six, and the TV was down, so I was out wandering the halls, being my usual bored self.

I was in the south wing, near the gardens, and also near the back entrance lobby. On my way to the gardens, I passed the large double doors of the lobby and heard my mothers voice. Curious, I stopped and stood by the door, hidden from view.

She was talking to someone else, a man, and seemed agitated.

"No. That is the answer. You shouldn't be here, so leave." I heard my mother say.

"Garcia, I am merely a sad, poor man looking for his daughter." Said the mans voice.

"Oh don't play the act of a cut off father. I know who you are Zane, and I will not be fooled by your mask. All you are is a foolish man who's 'circle of people' have run dry, and are looking for is a tool to regain your cash. You are selfish and cruel and neither I or my father will offer you such a thing of pity ever again."

I had snuck a peek around the corner of the door to see that the man had stepped towards my mother.

"You and your father are going to pay. Let him know that."

"Oh please. You wouldn't be able to lay a finger on him." My mother laughed.

The man had smirked and reached a hand up to her face. She tensed as he brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"Maybe not physically, but emotionally..." he trailed off and linked eyes with her. "I can kill him inside, Garcia Snow." He said snow with an edge, as if he wanted it to stick in her mind that she was his daughter.

I open my eyes and look back at the present day Zane with a sick feeling in my stomach.

"My mother..." I whisper. "Why?" I ask.

"Revenge." He replies without a hint of remorse.

"Revenge? So you had to kill her for revenge!?"

"Revenge against her and the president."

"You couldn't lay a finger on him physically, so you killed him on the inside."

"That's right, eavesdropper." He smirks. "I took away the thing he loved most. His daughter."

So he didn't kill her. That was one less death off his record. Not that it mattered anymore.

Katniss finally seems to snap out of her confusion. She looks at Zane, clenches her hands and opens her mouth to speak. Her words drip with venom and she practically holds herself back.

"You murderer." She hisses. "You don't deserve to be alive."

He laughs.

"Dear Katniss." He looks her in the eyes and smiles. "I wouldn't be talking about murder if I were you, Mockingjay."

Katniss goes pale and Zane laughs his shrill laugh.

"What are you doing here anyway?" Haymitch asks, easing the subject off Katniss.

He looks at Haymitch as if remembering he were there. "Well, I'm glad you finally asked." He looks at Katniss and smiles. "I'm here for a term I'm fairly sure you are familiar with. Rebellion."

Rebellion. My throat clenches. In the last rebellion, I almost lost all I had. I almost killed myself. Millions of other people were killed. It wasn't hard to see why I wasn't keen on another.

"Why? What for?" I manage to whisper. What could make this man want more bloodshed, more loss? What could make someone that horrible. My mind flicks to my grandfather for a second but I shake the thought away and focus on Zane. I couldn't bring myself to call him my father.

"Well, I know you didn't like the hunger games, but I did. And so did many others. Plus, when that idiot Snow died, I was supposed to take his place. But then the annoying rebellion came along and she," he gestures to Katniss, "ruined it all."

"So what do you intend to do? Kill Plutarch?" Katniss asks hotly.

"And all the other government personnel, yes." Zane replies.

Katniss turns pale and sits down on the bed behind her. That was clearly not the answer she was expecting.

"So what's your full plan then, genius? Because I've tried to take down a government before and succeeded, and your plan has quite a few flaws in it from what you've told me." Haymitch points out.

"Why would I tell you?" Zane says, staring him down.

"Well, for one I could help you. On the conditions that you don't kill me and let me have some liquor."

Katniss looks at Haymitch astonished and speechless, and I can't help but doing the same.

"How do I know you won't just help your Mockingjay?" Zane gestures to Katniss sitting on the bed beside me.

Haymitch laughs. "Trust me. This isn't the first time I've stabbed her back." Katniss turns paler than a sheet.

"Alright." Zane nods his head at the guards still holding Haymitch. "Release him. He's coming with us."

They release their grip and Haymitch rolls his wrists where their hands had clenched him. Some small part of me thinks, or hopes, that he will turn around and punch them in the face, then knock out Zane, but he doesn't. Of course he doesn't.

"Traitor." Katniss hisses, her anger returned.

"Haymitch?" I whisper, dazed and he turns and looks me in the eyes. I try to give him a pleading look, but his gaze is of steel. He smirks.

"You heard her sweetheart. I'm a traitor."

He moves behind Zane and starts whispering things to the guards, occasionally gesturing to Katniss and I.

I slip my hand into Katniss's and give it a reassuring squeeze, then focus on Zane.

"Why do you need us?" I ask, determined.

He laughs. "Well, I believe I've given you this answer before. It's quite simple. Revenge."

I ignore the lump at the back of my throat.

"And how would you do that?"

He leans towards me with his almost-permanent smirk on his too-wide face.

"Death."