somehow
it just won’t seem sincere if i’m trying to slit his throat.
the mayor finishes the dreary treaty of treason and mo-
tions for peeta and me to shake hands. his are as solid and
warm as those loaves of bread. peeta looks me right in the eye
33
and gives my hand what i think is meant to be a reassuring
squeeze. maybe it’s just a nervous spasm.
we turn back to face the crowd as the anthem of panem
plays.
oh, well, i think. there will be twenty-four of us. odds are
someone else will kill him before i do.
of course, the odds have not been very dependable of late.
34
the moment the anthem ends, we are taken into custody. i
don’t mean we’re handcuffed or anything, but a group of
peacekeepers marches us through the front door of the justice
building. maybe tributes have tried to escape in the past. i’ve
never seen that happen though.
once inside, i’m conducted to a room and left alone. it’s the
richest place i’ve ever been in, with thick, deep carpets and a
velvet couch and chairs. i know velvet because my mother has
a dress with a collar made of the stuff. when i sit on the couch,
i can’t help running my fingers over the fabric repeatedly. it
helps to calm me as i try to prepare for the next hour. the
time allotted for the tributes to say goodbye to their loved
ones. i cannot afford to get upset, to leave this room with puf-
fy eyes and a red nose. crying is not an option. there will be
more cameras at the train station.
my sister and my mother come first. i reach out to prim
and she climbs on my lap, her arms around my neck, head
on my shoulder, just like she did when she was a toddler.
my mother sits beside me and wraps her arms around us.
for a few minutes, we say nothing. then i start telling them
all the things they must remember to do, now that i will not be
there to do them for them.
35
prim is not to take any tesserae. they can get by, if
they’re careful, on selling prim’s goat milk and cheese and the
small apothecary business my mother now runs for the people
in the seam. gale will get her the herbs she doesn’t grow her-
self, but she must be very careful to describe them because
he’s not as familiar with them as i am. he’ll also bring them
game — he and i made a pact about this a year or so ago —
and will probably not ask for compensation, but they should
thank him with some kind of trade, like milk or medicine.
i don’t bother suggesting prim learn to hunt. i tried to teach
her a couple of times and it was disastrous. the woods terri-
fied her, and whenever i shot something, she’d get teary and
talk about how we might be able to heal it if we got it home
soon enough. but she makes out well with her goat, so i con-
centrate on that.
when i am done with instructions about fuel, and trading,
and staying in school, i turn to my mother and grip her arm,
hard. “listen to me. are you listening to me?” she nods,
alarmed by my intensity. she must know what’s coming. “you
can’t leave again,” i say.
my mother’s eyes find the floor. “i know. i won’t. i couldn’t
help what—”
“well, you have to help it this time. you can’t clock out and
leave prim on her own. there’s no me now to keep you both
alive. it doesn’t matter what happens. whatever you see on
the screen. you have to promise me you’ll fight through it!” my
voice has risen to a shout. in it is all the anger, all the fear i felt
at her abandonment.
36
she pulls her arm from my grasp, moved to anger herself
now. “i was ill. i could have treated myself if i’d had the medi-
cine i have now.”
that part about her being ill might be true. i’ve seen her
bring back people suffering from immobilizing sadness since.
perhaps it is a sickness, but it’s one we can’t afford.
“then take it. and take care of her!”
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