"One more time? For the audience?"he says. His voice isn't angry. It's hollow, which is worse. Already the boy with the bread is slipping away from me.I take his hand, holding on tightly, preparing for the cameras, and dreading the moment when I will finally have to let go."
"It's lovely. If only you could frost someone to death.""Don't be so superior. You can never tell what you will find in the arena. Say it's a gigantic cake-"
"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor."
"We could do it, you know.""What?""Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it."
"I don't want to lose the boy with the bread."
"We could do it, you know.""What?""Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it."