I Go Back To My Room And

I Poke Around In The Pile, About To Settle On Some Cod Chowder, When Peeta Holds Out A Can To Me. “here.” I Take It, Not Knowing What To Expect. The Label Reads Lamb Stew.

I Feel Like I Owe Him Something, And I Hate Owing People. Maybe If I Had Thanked Him At Some Point, I'd Be Feeling Less Conflicted Now. I Thought About It A Couple Of Times, But The Opportunity Never Seemed To Present Itself. And Now It Never Will. Because We're Going To Be Thrown Into An Arena To Fight To The Death. Exactly How Am I Supposed To Work In A Thank-you In There? Somehow It Just Won't Seem Sincere If I'm Trying To Slit His Throat.

Greeting To The Final Contestants Of The Seventy-fourth Hunger Games. The Earlier Revision Has Been Revoked. Closer Examination Of The Rule Book Has Disclosed That Only One Winner May Be Allowed," He Says. "good Luck And May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favor.

It's Amazing To See Things That Are Suggested In The Book Fully Developed And So Brilliantly Realized Through The Artistry Of The Designers.

One Slip. One Slip In Thousands. The Odds Had Been Entirely In Her Favor. But It Hadn't Mattered.