I know. I was hoping," I say. "Exactly. Because you're desperate," says Haymitch. I don't argue because, of course, he's right.

And so I'm stupid for thinking they might be useful. Because of something Johanna Mason said while she was oiling her breasts for wrestling.

Yes, everyone in the districts will be watching me to see how I handle this death sentence, this final act of President Snow’s dominance. They will be looking for some sign that their battles have not been in vain. If I can make it clear that I’m still defying the Capitol right up to the end, the Capitol will have killed me…but not my spirit. What better way to give hope to the rebels?

Ladies and gentlemen....." His voice is quiet, but mine rings through the room. "Let the Seventy-sixth Hunger Games begin!

You know, I think this is the first time we've ever done anything normal together.

It's meant to be pretty," whispers Octavia, and I can see the tears threatening to spill over her lashes. Posy considers this and says matter-of-factly, "I think you'd be pretty in any color." The tiniest of smiles forms on Octavia's lips. "Thank you.

Positioned on my dresser, that white-as-snow rose is a personal message to me. It speaks of unfinished business. It whispers, I can find you. I can reach you. Perhaps I am watching you now.