We sit smack down in the clump of katniss, side by side, completely done in. I can barely hear her whisper. “One of us has to win this thing.” My eyes travel up the long stems to the arrow-shaped leaves, the white petals, concealing us from Capitol cameras. “Why’s that?” I whisper back. “One of us has to be the worst victor in history. Tear up their scripts, tear down their celebrations, set fire to the Victor’s Village. Refuse to play their game.”
