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Summary
“Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games. The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed,” he says. “Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor.”
“It has to be you.”
She hates him in that moment, that split second where he finds it so easy to suggest leaving her. “No,” she whispers, and the sound of her voice reminds her that she loves this boy, that she is here for a reason and that reason is him. “I swore you were getting out of this, Mal. If you think I’m going to kill you, you’re more dehydrated than I thought.”