“I have to go now,” I say. They pour out thanks and embrace me. Tears spill from Bonnie’s eyes. “I can’t believe we actually got to meet you. You’re practically all anyone’s talked about since —” “I know. I know. Since I pulled out those berries,” I say tiredly. I hardly notice the walk home even though a wet snow begins to fall. My mind is spinning with new information about the uprising in District 8 and the unlikely but tantalizing possibility of District 13.
