“I don’t stand a chance if he doesn't get better. You’ll never be able to let him go. You’ll always feel wrong about being with me.”“The way I always felt wrong kissing him because of you,” I say.Gale holds my gaze. “If I thought that was true, I could almost live with the rest of it.”

“You'll never be able to let him go. You'll always feel wrong about being with me.”

“Maybe . . . because for the first time . . . there was a chance I could keep him,” I say.“So now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?”“Put you somewhere you can't get hurt.”And when he kisses me, people in the room actually sigh.”

“How much better my life has been for knowing him. For loving him, even if it's only in the limited way that I can manage.But I never get the chance.”

“I brought you this." Gale holds up a sheath. When I take it, I notice it holds a single, ordinary arrow. "It'ssupposed to be symbolic. You firing the last shot of the war.""What if I miss?" I say. "Does Coin retrieve it and bring it back to me? Or just shoot Snow through the head herself?""You won't miss." Gale adjusts the sheath on my shoulder.We stand there, face-to-face, not meeting each other's eyes. "You didn't come see me in the hospital." He doesn't answer, so finally I just say it. "Was it your bomb?""I don't know. Neither does Beetee," he says. "Does it matter? You'll always be thinking about it."He waits for me to deny it; I want to deny it, but it's true. Even now I can see the flash that ignites her, feelthe heat of the flames. And I will never be able to separate that moment from Gale. My silence is my answer."That was the one thing I had going for me. Taking care of your family," he says. "Shoot straight, okay?" He touches my cheek and leaves. I want to call him back and tell him that I was wrong. That I'll figure out a way tomake peace with this. To remember the circumstances under which he created the bomb. Take into account my own inexcusable crimes. Dig up the truth about who dropped the parachutes. Prove it wasn't the rebels. Forgive him. But since I can't, I'll just have to deal with the pain.”

“I look at Peeta and he gives me a sad smile. I hear Haymitch's voice. "You could do a lot worse." At this moment, it's impossible to imagine how I could do any better. The gift...it is perfect. So when I rise up on my tiptoe to kiss him, it doesn't seem forced at all.”

“No one really needs me," he says, and there's no self pity in his voice. It's true his family doesn't need him. They will mourn him, as will a handful of friends. But they will get on. Even Haymitch, with the help of a lot of white liquor, will get on. I realize only one person will be damaged beyond repair if Peeta dies. Me. "I do," I say. "I need you." he looks upset, takes a deep breath as if to begin a long argument, and that's no good, no good at all, because he'll start going on about Prim and my mother and everything and I'll just get confused. So before he can talk, i stop his lips with a kiss.”