"You're right." Her voice is more solid now, her face more decisive. Her eyes are big and focused on him, and she nods. "You are. They don't even listen when we say that we didn't bring them here. Joel told me that I'm responsible for the Games and everything else bad in Panem, because I was born here."

She reaches for his hand, and she's shaking, shaking because she's starting to convince herself, letting what he says wrap around her like a cloak as she thinks more and more about how hateful some of them are. Even the ones who aren't, usually, they have their moments where it really comes through, their anger misdirected at an entire group of people whose parents weren't even born when the Games began.

"They don't appreciate anything."