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"Katniss?" He drops my hand and I take a step, as if to catch my balance. "It was all for the Games," Peeta says. "How you acted." "Not all of it," I say, tightly holding onto my flowers. "Then how much? No, forget that. I guess the real question is what's going to be left when we get home?" he says. "I don't know. The closer we get to District Twelve, the more confused I get," I say. He waits, for further explanation, but none's forthcoming. "Well, let me know when you work it out," he says, and the pain in his voice is palpable.

"The Hunger Games". Book by Suzanne Collins, September 14, 2008.
Katniss? He drops my hand and I take a step, as if to catch my balance. It was all for the Games, Peeta says. How you acted. Not all of it, I say, tightly holding onto my flowers. Then how much? No, forget that. I guess