Carlie Hewitt

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My lips move, but no sound comes out. “Buddy?” I stumble forward, spotting his tracker, wedged just below his elbow. There is no one to comfort, to ease out of this world. Ampert’s been swallowed up by the Capitol, and his coffin will hold only these pearly white bones. A cannon fires.
Sunrise on the Reaping (The Hunger Games)
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