Highly Unlikely But Not Impossible.

We Sit In Silence Awhile Then I Blurt Out The Thing That's On Both Our Minds. "how Are We Going To Kill These People, Peeta?

That Was The One Thing I Had Going For Me. Taking Care Of Your Family.

Haymitch In My Head Full-time. Horrifying

So, In A Way, My Name Being Drawn In The Reaping Was A Real Piece Of Luck," Says Peeta.

It's There. The White Rose Among The Dried Flowers In The Vase. Shriveled And Fragile, But Holding On To That Unnatural Perfection Cultivated In Snows Greenhouse. I Grab The Vase, Stumble Down To The Kitchen, And Throw Its Contents Into The Embers. As The Flowers Flare Up, A Burst Of Blue Flame Envelops The Rose And Devours It. Fire Beats Roses Again.