The bones are the worst. District 12 was not a big place, compared to all of the other Districts and the Capitol itself. I see a face on every skull on the ground, wondering how many of them I knew. How many of them I would pass every day on the way to school or the Hob in the evenings.

Gale's hands are calloused in the same places as mine. I pull myself to my feet, eyes stinging. First the music from the jukebox, and now this. It can't be a coincidence.

"I did this," he might as well know the truth.