suzanna-kollinz-acliq-oyunlari-1-hisse-eng

fancy hair and clothes, no flaming capes. Just me. Looking like
I could be headed for the woods. It calms me.
Haymitch didn’t give us an exact time to meet for break-last
and no one has contacted me this morning, but I’m hungry so I
head down to the dining room, hoping there will be food. I’m
not disappointed. While the table is empty, a long board off to
the side has been laid with at least twenty dishes. A young
man, an Avox, stands at attention by the spread. When I ask if
I can serve myself, he nods assent. I load a plate with eggs,
sausages, batter cakes covered in thick orange preserves, slices
of pale purple melon. As I gorge myself, I watch the sun rise
over the Capitol. I have a second plate of hot grain smothered
in beef stew. Finally, I fill a plate with rolls and sit at the table,
breaking oil bits and dipping them into hot chocolate, the way
Peeta did on the train.
My mind wanders to my mother and Prim. They must be
up. My mother getting their breakfast of mush. Prim milking
her goat before school. Just two mornings ago, I was home.
Can that be right? Yes, just two. And now how empty the
house feels, even from a distance. What did they say last night
about my fiery debut at the Games? Did it give them hope, or
simply add to their terror when they saw the reality of twenty-four
tributes circled together, knowing only one could live?
Haymitch and Peeta come in, bid me good morning, fill
their plates. It makes me irritated that Peeta is wearing exactly
the same outfit I am. I need to say something to Cinna. This
twins act is going to blow up in out faces once the Games begin.
Surely, they must know this. Then I remember Haymitch
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