Sick and disoriented, I'm able to form only one thought: Peeta Mellark just saved my life.

"I don't know how to say it exactly. Only... I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?" he asks. I shake my head. How could he die as anyone but himself. "I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not."

A furious Peeta hammers Haymitch with the atrocity he could become party to, but I can feel Haymitch watching me. This is the moment, then. When we find out exactly just how alike we are, and how much he truly understands me. "I'm with the Mockingjay," he says.

Thinking like your prey. . . that's where you find their vulnerabilities.

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.

I miss home badly sometimes. But then I remember there's nothing left to miss anymore. I feel safer here.

Only I keep wishing I could think of a way...to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games.