I've shot people for less. That's the first thing that comes to mind, but it doesn't make it any better. Still, it helps me understand who he was, and how he connects with the scared child underneath the bed. He couldn't have been more than twelve years old at the time, probably younger.

Why is it that children are always the ones who suffer? I'm not talking about myself - I've never really been a child or thought of myself as one. But there's Rue, and there's Prim, and the girl in the Capitol with the pale yellow coat in the snow.

"Alright," I nod, accepting it - at least for now.