Katniss, got that spile?" Finnick asks, snapping me back to reality.

He could have had his choice of any woman in the district. And he chose solitude. Not solitude – that sounds too peaceful. More like solitary confinement.

I roll my eyes. "So when did I become so special? When they carted me off to the Capitol?" "No, about six months before that. Right after New Year's. We were in the Hob, eating some slop of Greasy Sae's. And Darius was teasing you about trading a rabbit for one of his kisses. And I realized...I minded.

I don't like self-righteous people," I say. "What's to like?" says Haymitch, who begins sucking the dregs out of the empty bottles.

For there to be betrayal, there would have to have been trust first.

Mostly we just add to the piles of rainbow glass that's been blown off the exteriors of the cany-colored buildings.

Whatever it takes to break you.