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

by Suzanne Collins

I’m entirely the Capitol’s plaything. They will use me for their entertainment and then kill me, and the truth will have no say in it.

You know, my family has its own little aphorism.” “What’s that?” “Snow lands on top.”

“I don’t know how, and I don’t know where, I don’t know anything, but I feel that in my heart. You and me, we will find each other, as many times as it takes.”

Her sign. Her message to me now. Her reminder that I must prevent another sunrise on the reaping.