The Hunger Games (Hunger Games, #1)

by Suzanne Collins

In seventy-four years, we have had exactly two. Only one is still alive.

At the last minute, I remember Madge’s little gold pin. For the first time, I get a good look at it. It’s as if someone fashioned a small golden bird and then attached a ring around it. The bird is connected to the ring only by its wing tips. I suddenly recognize it. A mockingjay.