"I've heard about that," I say, nodding, my hand staying curled around Peeta's as I start in the direction of the couch. When there's a lot I imagine we'll have to try to figure out, there's no sense in just standing around right inside the doorway. If someone is watching, it might look better, anyway, the two of us huddled close, making plans. It's too hard to tell what I think is going on here, at least as far as that's concerned. There might be no cameras, all of this clearly meant to evoke an Arena but without the audience. It might not do any good even if there is, after everything that's happened.

More importantly, I'm not sure I should care. I'm through doing what Snow wants me to. I think I made that clear enough in going to war against him. Should it come to that, we'll find other ways to save our lives. There's just something habitual about it, too deeply intertwined with my continued relief that he isn't injured or worse for me to tell what's what. I decide not to worry about it, though. There's too much at hand here demanding our attention, and anyway, it's not like I don't mean any of it, from what I say to the way I hold on to him. I'm not good enough at acting for that.

About to tell him that I've seen it happen, too, I realize at the last second that I haven't. Seen things that have supposedly just shown up from out of nowhere, yes, but I can only take other people's words for it, and right now, that's out of the question. Who's to say that anything else that appeared here wasn't also on purpose, anyway? "You really think it could be that simple?"