And here I am, strapped into a tree, a stone's throw from the biggest idiot in the games.

In my mind, President Snow should be viewed in front of marble pillars hung with oversized flags. It's jarring to see him surrounded by the ordinary objects in the room. Like taking the lid off a pot and finding a fanged viper instead of stew.

You're alive," I whisper, pressing my palms against my cheeks, feeling the smile that's so wide it must look like a grimace. Peeta's alive.

All the times these arms were my only refuge from the world. Perhaps not fully appreciated then, but so sweet in my memory, and now gone forever.

The sun persists in rising, so I make myself stand

Then, in my most careful handwriting, come all the details it would be a crime to forget. Lady licking Prim's cheek. My father's laugh. Peeta's father with the cookies. The colour of Finnick's eyes. What Cinna could do with a length of silk. Boggs reprogramming the Holo. Rue poised on her toes, arms slightly extended, like a bird about to take flight. On and on. We seal the pages with salt water and promises to live well to make their death count.

Ripred sighed. 'I suppose so. You and I seem to end up doing everything. Shall we say four members for each delegation?' 'Why not?' Luxa said. 'Four can be as stupid as ten. No need to crowd the room.' Ripred laughed. 'You know, I think you an I are going to get on famously.