Sunrise on the Reaping (The Hunger Games, #0.5)

by Suzanne Collins

“Well, you got the last word tonight, Mr. Abernathy.” “Did I? What exactly did I say again, Miss Donner?” “Don’t mess with District Twelve.” Half my mouth manages a smile. “Scared them pretty good, you reckon?” “I don’t. But at least now they know we’re here.” She helps me to my feet. “I’d rather be despised than ignored.”