This perplexing, good natured boy who can spin out lies so convincingly to be hopelessly in love with me ... and I admit it there are moments when he makes me believe it myself.

I look down from the branch I'm perched on. The Careers look murderous. Now I smile.'How have things been with you?' I ask sweetly.

You'd have thought we planned it," says Peeta, giving me just the hint of a smile. "Didn't you?" asks Portia. Her fingers press her eyelids closed as if she's warding off a very bright light. "No," I say looking at Peeta with a new sense of apreciation. "Neither of us even knew what we were going to do before we went in." "And Haymitch?" says Peeta. "We decided we don't want any other allies in the arena." "Good. Then I won't be responsible for you killing off any of my friends with your stupidity," he says.

How about you, Mockingjay? You feel totally safe?” “Oh, yeah. Right up until I got shot,” I say.

We could do it, you know." "What?" "Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it.

It means we're on your side." That's what Bonnie said. I have people on my side? What side? Am I unwittingly the face of the hoped-for rebellion? Has the mockingjay on my pin become a symbol of resistance? If so, my side's not doing too well.

My voice, at first rough and breaking on the high notes, warms up into something splendid. A voice that would make the mockingjays fall silent and then tumble over themselves to join in.