Somehow It Always Comes Back To Coal

Tonight. After The Reaping, Everyone Is Supposed To Celebrate. And A A Lot Of People Do, Out Of Relief That Their Children Have Been Spared For Another Year. But At Least Two Families Will Pull Their Shutters, Lock Their Doors, And Try To Figure Out How They Will Survive The Painful Weeks To Come.

I Cover My Face With My Arms Because This Isn't Happening. It Isn't Possible. For Someone To Make Peeta Forget He Loves Me . . . No One Can Do That.

One Slip. One Slip In Thousands. The Odds Had Been Entirely In Her Favor. But It Hadn't Mattered.

Katniss: I Guess All Those Hours Decorating Cakes Paid Off. Peeta: Yes, Frosting. The Final Defence Of The Dying. (252)

One More Time? For The Audience?" He Says. His Voice Isn't Angry. It's Hollow, Which Is Worse. Already The Boy With The Bread Is Slipping Away From Me. I Take His Hand, Holding On Tightly, Preparing For The Cameras, And Dreading The Moment When I Will Finally Have To Let Go.