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

Underground. Which I hate. Like mines and tunnels and 13. Underground, where I dread dying, which is stupid because even if I die aboveground, the next thing they'll do is bury me underground anyway.

It's just me and the Bane. And I'm fighting him because he killed all of those innocent mice and people, and I have to stop him. Not because Sandwich says so but because I say so.

You've got to go through it to get to the end of it.

Peeta smiles at me, sad and mocking. "Okay. Thanks for the tip, sweetheart.

maybe it's that we are all so starved for something good to happen that we want to be a part of it.

It's there. The white rose among the dried flowers in the vase. Shriveled and fragile, but holding on to that unnatural perfection cultivated in Snows greenhouse. I grab the vase, stumble down to the kitchen, and throw its contents into the embers. As the flowers flare up, a burst of blue flame envelops the rose and devours it. Fire beats roses again.