"You're looking better than last time I saw you," I say. I can feel the pulse hammering in my throat, my chest tight like I'm half underwater. Half an hour ago she was pale and sweating, half-conscious on a hospital bed. Now... I've blacked out before, but never before I was drunk.

Nothing about this makes sense. Normally I'd want to get to the bottom of it, to make it make sense, but I'm too worn out to care. I want to ask about Peeta, but I'm almost afraid of the answer. So instead I take the out she's handed me, sweeping a bow as I say, "Lead the way."