She'd bought train tickets from station to station, like she was visiting. This was the easiest alibi to hide behind; friends and acquaintances, the life of a socialite that had to be maintained and carefully kept. So, her journey took her all the way down Four into Five. All the way through the upper part of Five, then the upper part of Two. Medea would deny it later, but she'd been glued to the window the entire train ride through the second District. Eager to see at least some glimpses of Miller's home, what he'd been so adamant about that she wouldn't like. She saw high mountains, the peaks of a glistening city in the distance. This train wouldn't take her through the main station, so she soaked up every piece she could get here.
Next was Nine in a complicated loop that was for nothing but shaking any potential person off her trail. From Nine she went to Eight. And in Eight, she got off the train entirely.
Slate had left her instructions on how to get to Eleven from Eight, which ride to catch and where to get off. Usually, she prided herself on being confident, on knowing where she needed to go and what she needed to get there, but there and then, she felt herself grow shy in the face of the people that had been fighting for Panem's freedom for months now. Who'd been risking - were risking - their lives for this cause. It was odd, seeing what her father's money was secretly paying for up close. Odd. But exhilarating.
Her trip had started in the early morning, and when she got out of the car, the sun was low in the sky, close to setting. Medea's gaze was fixed on the rooftops around, tinged in orange and purple hues, before she looked down and spotted Slate.
"Please tell me I can shower somwhere," she weakly joked. "I've been on a train all day."
