"Prim. Coin killed her, and I killed Coin and now there's nothing left." My voice begins to crack - high, then low - and the tears are corrosive. They sting and redden tracks of new skin, but I don't notice. I'm filled with a sort of hysterical fury at something I can't quite place. The deaths of Coin and Snow did little to help that. I want to smash something. Peeta's grip suddenly feels like a vice, one that I want to force my way out of but can't bring myself to.
And there's more news. How do I tell him about his family? About Finnick and Cinna and Portia and everyone we knew from District 12? It feels like I shouldn't tell, because all of their deaths were at least partially my fault and I don't want him to hate me. Not yet. This Peeta loves me unconditionally. I want to keep that, even though it's selfish and horrible.
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And there's more news. How do I tell him about his family? About Finnick and Cinna and Portia and everyone we knew from District 12? It feels like I shouldn't tell, because all of their deaths were at least partially my fault and I don't want him to hate me. Not yet. This Peeta loves me unconditionally. I want to keep that, even though it's selfish and horrible.