Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else's arms have made me feel this safe.

My sleep wasn't peaceful, though. I have the sense of emerging from a world of dark, haunted places where I traveled alone.

But Gale is not one to keep secrets from me. "Katniss, there is no District Twelve."

I'm on a frosting sailboat, tossed around by blue-green waves, the deck shifting beneath my feet.

People deal with me, but they are genuinely fond of Prim. Maybe there will be enough fondness to keep her alive.

What will break me into a million pieces so that I am beyond repair, beyond usefulness?

I just don't want them to change me, if I'm going to die I still want to be me.