"Why didn't you do it?" Katniss demands from the get-go, shaking limbs already moving to wrap around herself, as if needing to defend from more attacks. Every muscle in her body is tensed and aching from it. Her hands are still curled as if they kept gripping the knife she'd used, thrashing and kicking like a wild animal until blade met flesh and blood flowed. "Why didn't you shoot me?" they had a deal, or at least she used to have one with the Gale from before. An unspoken agreement that they would look out for each other. That it was better to be shot than taken.

There's anger coursing through her body, that he'd let her be dragged off like that, to be executed. That he didn't have the guts for one clean shot. That's all it took, and he didn't.

But Katniss doesn't know if she could have, had the roles been reversed. She was prepared to kill Peeta after blowing out the force field in the arena, one empty needle against the entire Capitol.