Fair.

Aella made her way down the road away from the capital, following the pull to the Arena when she heard a loud noise come above her. Looking up and shielding her eyes from the setting sun she saw it was a helicopter.

It landed a short way down the road and out of it climbed someone Aella would have sworn looked like Claire for a second, but taller.

The woman walked towards Aella and as the noise of the machine behind her died down she spoke;

“You look a lot like your mother Aella.”

“Mrs Irfan?”

She nodded, her hands in her pockets looking off into the horizon.

“I’m sorry, Claire-”

“It’s not your fault sweetie.” Mrs Irfan looked over to Aella and smiled, even though she was clearly saddened. “You were a good friend and you did your best.”

Mrs Irfan walked up to Aella and put her hand on her shoulder as Aella looked down at her feet. “If you need to go somewhere, I’d be happy to give you a lift.”

Aella looked up into Mrs Irfan’s eyes, then looked away again, she couldn’t just ask something of a woman who lost her child.

“Don’t be like that,” Mrs Irfan turned around and took a couple of steps towards the helicopter, “As I see it, I’d be giving my son a ride too.”

Aella looked at the glowing jar she had been holding tight the whole time.

“If you don’t mind Mrs Irfan, please-”

“The Arena?” Mrs Irfan looked back, a pleasant look on her face.

Aella nodded.

“All Aboard then.” Mrs Irfan started walking towards the helicopter and Aella followed.