Dahlia was the first person Katniss asked to see when she woke up. After losing her sister, there was no one else she wanted by her side. They were each other's second chance. Dahlia got the opportunity to be the big sister Cove had once been for her, the big sister she didn't get to be for Lavender and Rosie. And, in turn, Katniss got the big sister she had always longed for. Someone that she didn't have to be strong around, someone to offer her a shoulder to cry on, someone to protect and defend her when she couldn't fight for herself. And when no one else understood the pain of grief, Dahlia was there to give her hope that there was still life after so much death. And when everyone else wanted the Mockingjay, Dahlia wanted Katniss Everdeen.

Many of the Victors were temporarily moved into the Presidential Palace while the rebels tried to sort out the mess the nation had been left in. Katniss demanded Dahlia and Finnick be placed in the room next to her. No one dared to argue against a grieving woman. And when Katniss finally plucked up the courage to explore their luxurious accommodation, Dahlia was right there with her. Even as they approached the guarded greenhouse which housed the man responsible for all their suffering.

"Sorry, ladies." One of the soldiers spoke up, one hand resting on his gun while the other gestured for the two women to stop. "Can't let you pass."

Dahlia was about to protest against him, mouth opening in preparation for an argument when another voice interrupted, "Let them in. On my authority." Whipping around to see who was granting them access, Dahlia was pleased to find Commander Paylor standing atop the snow-covered steps gazing at them. "She has a right to anything behind that door. They both do."

As the guard obediently moved to carry out his orders, the three women exchanged nods of gratitude and acknowledgement. Because Paylor knew that both girls deserved to confront the monster that lay beyond those doors. She knew they would never find peace without first battling their inner conflict.

Entering the greenhouse felt like stepping into the lair of a dragon. The warmth was comforting enough to lure them into a fall sense of security, but they knew there would always be danger lurking around the corner. A great beast prepared to pounce, ready to feast upon their doubts and fears until they were left mere skeletons of their former self. But Katniss and Dahlia had escaped his clutches once before. Now they had returned to slay the dragon.

As the doors were closed behind them, the two girls found themselves wandering down a gravel path lined with gleaming white rose bushes. The plants were pristine, as one would expect, not a single leaf out of place. A large swatch of perfection, untainted by the horrors of the man who tended to them.

But in the middle of the patch, protruding proudly above the rest of the flowers, was one single black dahlia. One tiny speck of darkness polluting the innocent purity of the dainty white petals. The soil had been disturbed around the root of the plant and the dahlia flower itself had seen better days, as though someone had frantically tried to dig it up or rip the head from the stem. Yet the black dahlia still bloomed gloriously above the white roses, casting all of them into its shadow. An imperfect blossom that persisted in the face of adversity. An infectious weed that refused to be uprooted.

Katniss stopped next to Dahlia, the two of them transfixed by the stubborn flower that stood out from all the rest. As if stuck in a daze, Dahlia reached out to touch the dahlia, fingers just grazing the damaged but beautiful petals when a voice called out to them, "That's a nice one." Startled from the sudden intrusion, both girls stiffened and turned to the man emerging from another row of rose bushes behind them. If he noticed their agitation, he didn't comment on it as he continued talking like the three of them were old friends, "The colours are lovely, of course. Not quite to my taste, I'm afraid, hence why I tried to remove it. Because nothing says perfection like white."

While Katniss peered curiously at the pale man as he slowly lowered himself down onto an ornate marble bench, Dahlia narrowed her eyes and sharply retorted, "Perfection is overrated."

Snow averted his gaze from the Mockingjay to her loyal shadow, unable to disguise the displeasure he felt at her presence. Struggling to conceal his sneer, Snow snidely replied, "Spoken like a woman who is all too familiar with her own imperfections." Then he returned his attention to Katniss as if his conversation had never been disrupted. "I was hoping you'd find your way here. There are so many things we should discuss." But Katniss' head immediately turned to the doors of the greenhouse where two guards were watching the trio carefully through the glass. Understanding the silent hint, Snow continued, "But I have a feeling your visit will be brief, so first things first..." He was cut off by a guttural cough that wracked his entire body. He lifted a handkerchief politely to his lips, pulling it away to reveal a few drops of crimson blood staining the fabric. "I wanted to tell you how very sorry I am about your sister. So wasteful. So..." He trailed off from his uncharacteristically soft apology, deliberately flicking his eyes over to Dahlia with a smirk dancing on his lips and a dark tone. "Unnecessary. Anyone could see the game was over by that point. In fact, I was just about to issue an official surrender when they released those parachutes."

A sense of realisation flooded Dahlia's mind as she unravelled the web of truth Snow had spun for them. At first, she was hesitant to believe any tale that came from those venomous blood-stained fangs. But there was little reason for Snow to lie. He knew he was destined for death. Nothing he said would change any of that. So why reveal this crucial detail to the woman who had just lost her sister in that very same explosion? Because if he was going down, he'd be taking someone else down with him.

"You released those parachutes." Katniss declared assertively, but even she was starting to doubt her own words. 

"You really think I gave the order?" Snow questioned, sounding almost offended at the accusation.

Scoffing under her breath and blatantly rolling her eyes, Dahlia bitterly muttered, "We all know you're not above killing children or innocents."

Darting his stare over to the hostile woman, Snow couldn't deny her allegations because everyone in Panem could attest to its truth. Yet with a pointed look in her direction, he made one important distinction, "But I'm not wasteful. I take life for specific reasons. And there was no reason for me to destroy a pen full of Capitol children. None at all--" Another coughing fit was unleashed upon him, forcing his sentence to a swift halt as he tried to recover. Groaning quietly after wiping his lips with the handkerchief, Snow glanced back up at the two women with a grin. "I must concede, it was a masterful move on Coin's part. The idea that I was bombing our own helpless children to hold back the rebels... It turned the last of my guards against me. There was no resistance left inside the Capitol or the mansion. Do you know it aired live?" Chuckling to himself at the genius of Coin's plan, he sighed in amusement, "There's a particular savvy in that, isn't there? I'm sure she wasn't gunning for your sister, but... these things happen in war. My failure was in being so slow to grasp Coin's plan. She let the Capitol and the Districts destroy one another. Then she stepped in to take power with Thirteen's arsenal. Oh, make no mistake, she intends to take my place now. But I've been watching you. And you watching me. I'm afraid we've all been played for fools."

Katniss' features hardened despite the tears clinging to her eyelashes. Logically, she knew that Snow was telling the truth. But she still found it too hard to accept that truth when it was coming from that monster.

Shaking her head stubbornly, she protested, "I don't believe you."

Snow was not fazed by her furious denial, glancing over at the solemn and silent Dahlia with a triumphant smirk. "Oh, my dear Miss Everdeen. I thought we'd agreed never to lie to each other. And you may choose not to believe it right away... But Mrs Odair seems to have already accepted the truth."

Dahlia's expression remained impassive as Katniss turned to her, despite knowing that everything he had said so far was correct. When she'd first spotted that hovercraft soaring overhead, she had identified it as a District Thirteen vehicle. But she thought she had been proven wrong when they discovered the Capitol symbol on the underbelly. Turned out she was right all along and Snow was the one who confirmed it. Though she would never admit that out loud to him. She would never dare to give him that level of satisfaction. Who knew what he could do with that?

As the group was plunged into a reflective silence where each of them tried not to let the others know what they were thinking, a small cluster of shadows started to appear on the stone. Almost like thick droplets of rain falling in slow motion. But as Dahlia tilted her head to stare out of the glass ceiling, she found that it wasn't rain at all. It was snow.

The cold flakes struck the greenhouse with a raging force, like they were feeding off of the fury of the women inside. They rapped angrily on the glass, settling calmly on the windows before quickly melting away once they made contact. A beautiful yet dangerous display of nature's abilities. A symbol for new beginnings.

Katniss' eyebrows furrowed in confusion, looking to Dahlia for answers as she asked, "Do you hear that?"

But Dahlia's eyes remained glued to the skies, almost mesmerised as the gentle blizzard continued above her. It was a sign. She was sure of it. A sign that change was coming. A sign that fire would vanquish Snow.

Slowly nodding her acknowledgement of Katniss' question, Dahlia softly murmured, "That's the sound of Snow..." She paused, finally tearing her stare away from the flurry of snowflakes to fix her dark gaze on the now tense President. With a subtle smirk tugging at her lips, she finished her sentence with unwavering determination, "Falling."

Though he seemed rattled by the wording she had used, he attempted to maintain his composure. Stiffening his posture, he plastered a feigned expression of confidence over his features and firmly proclaimed, "Snow lands on top."

While that may have been true, as the snow had indeed covered every visible surface outside, there were still some things that wouldn't be deterred by the weather. Nature persevered despite the cold environment, which was evident in the dozens of little plants peeking through the blanket of snow and the black dahlia flower thriving amongst a patch of white roses. Resistance was everywhere if you knew where to look.

Leering down at the man who shrunk under her sharp eyes, Dahlia slyly responded with her final words, "And yet the flowers still bloom."