"We're in Darrow," I say, a too-simple response that should probably have some sort of preamble. I don't know how to deal with any of that, though, and I don't know what good it would do. I've given him the most important information already — that I don't think this is anything like the Arena, even if I can't say for sure. The rest is just details.

Still holding on to him, I breathe in deep, the cold air stinging my lungs. "It's a city. Not in Panem. No one knows how we get here, but we do."