"That's what I thought, too," I say with a nod, relieved that he's agreed. Not that I would have expected him to do otherwise — he's been in two Arenas with me, seen the Capitol's cruelty firsthand, too, even if he's been spared from a lot of it. They don't just wound and kill, send Peacekeepers into the Districts to keep things running smoothly and eliminate those who might try to speak against them. That would be too simple. No, they try to get under a person's skin, mess with their heads, do everything they can to break them. It's what they did to me before, and they almost succeeded.

Briefly, I think about telling Peeta everything, using what they did to him as proof that we have to be right about this. I can't, though. It's been too long, for one. Anyway, he knows well enough the games they play without me adding one further example to the list. It's a good thing, too. I want him on my side for this, not to be fighting to convince him that this isn't just some coincidence. We've always worked better together, anyway, rather than at odds. It took me too long to realize that. Now I mean to use it to both of our advantage.

"It has to be them." I'm more convinced of it now, his agreement adding to my certainty. "Trying to send us a message. Telling us that we've never really left. That they still have the upper hand." I suck in a sharp breath, furious, my cheeks burning with the effort it takes to keep that constrained. "We'll just have to get it back."