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Peeta reached a hand up to rub the red welt on his cheek, then just as quickly pulled it away as a fresh wave of throbbing pain ran down his face. "I... I was just hungry!"
Mrs. Mellark's almost ever-present glare tightened. "And you think our customers aren't? Really, boy, how do you expect us to make any money if our shelves are empty?"
It was only one cookie!
The words roared in his head but not from his mouth. The last thing Peeta needed right then was a black eye.
"S-sorry, Mother." Peeta didn't meet her gaze as he spoke. He turned back towards the bowl of bread dough he'd been mixing.
One cookie and his stomach was still growling. Peeta eyed the bread, cakes, rolls, and other confectioneries surrounding him. He was at once both drowning and dying of thirst.
