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when I launch into Haymitch’s arms first. When he whispers
in my ear, “Nice job, sweetheart,” it doesn’t sound sarcastic.
Effie’s somewhat teary and keeps patting my hair and talking
about how she told everyone we were pearls. Cinna just hugs
me tight and doesn’t say anything. Then I notice Portia is absent
and get a bad feeling.
“Where’s Portia? Is she with Peeta? He is all right, isn’t he? I
mean, he’s alive?” I blurt out.
“He’s fine. Only they want to do your reunion live on air at
the ceremony,” says Haymitch.
“Oh. That’s all,” I say. The awful moment of thinking Peeta’s
dead again passes. “I guess I’d want to see that myself.”
“Go on with Cinna. He has to get you ready,” says Haymitch.
It’s a relief to be alone with Cinna, to feel his protective arm
around my shoulders as he guides me away from the cameras,
down a few passages and to an elevator that leads to the lobby
of the Training Center. The hospital then is far underground,
even beneath the gym where the tributes practiced tying
knots and throwing spears. The windows of the lobby are
darkened, and a handful of guards stand on duty. No one else
is there to see us cross to the tribute elevator. Our footsteps
echo in the emptiness. And when we ride up to the twelfth
floor, the faces of all the tributes who will never return flash
across my mind and there’s a heavy, tight place in my chest.
When the elevator doors open, Venia, Flavius, and Octavia
engulf me, talking so quickly and ecstatically I can’t make out
their words. The sentiment is clear though. They are truly
thrilled to see me and I’m happy to see them, too, although not
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