I'm getting older, but today I just want to hold onto Mama's hand. I want to but I can't, because she's got both her hands full. One of her arms is busy holding Nan up on her hip because the baby's too little to walk fast. She just toddles one shaky leg at a time, and falls over on her face and cries. She always wants to walk now, but today someone's got to carry her. She was whining and squirming because she wanted to get down, but now that she sees this swarming field of strangers, I think she's okay letting Mama carry her.

Mama's other hand is holding onto Lily and making sure she doesn't get lost. Lily's only three and she still thinks Mama and Daddy and Granny can do anything just because they're grown up. She doesn't know that if she gets lost in this crowd we might never find her. District Eleven's got more people than even Mama can count, and she went to school for longer than any of us. More land than she can count, too. When I ask how big she says, "You haven't even seen a tiny piece of it, Ryllis."

My sister used to take me to work with her so I could help make money. We climbed trees together and I could see pretty far from the highest ones, miles, I think, and I've still never seen the fence. And then Mama told me what I've seen, that's not even a tiny piece of all of Eleven. I couldn't imagine something so big. Mama says I could meet one new person here every single day of my life and not meet them all, even if I got to be as old as Granny. Granny is so old, she was a little girl the year of the first Quarter Quell. This year will be the third. If she remembers that she must be at least eighty years old, but she doesn't remember her years. After a while they say you don't see the point in counting your years, but I don't know. I think I'll always want to know my year.

Zaley and Annie hold onto my hands because they can't hold Mama's either and I'm the next best thing because I'm the next oldest here. Daddy doesn't count because he's home with the wasting-away sickness that makes people all skinny, and Granny stayed home in case he needs anything. They're the only two who don't have to come to see the victors. We'd all stay home if we were allowed.

But actually, maybe I would come. I want to see Katniss. I want her to say something about Rue. I don't want her to forget my sister. I don't want anyone to forget. I want to hear her say it, and I think Mama and Zaley and Annie do too. Nan and Lily are too little to remember. Nan was still tiny last year when my sister got up on the stage and went away forever. The rest of us were crying and trying to keep breathing, and Nan just kept drinking down her milk under Mama's shirt. Nan and Lily won't even remember Rue, but the rest of us will never forget.

My sister. I don't know how she did what she did, and I don't know how I'll ever be able to do it as well. She didn't have enough to eat, but she'd skip meals and let us divide her food up and gobble it down. She worked every day, as hard as any of the adults, to bring home enough money so we could eat. She taught me how to climb trees so I could come help her during harvest. Now I'm the oldest sister and I don't know how to do it.

That's how Katniss ended up in the Games. She was being a big sister. So now her sister gets to live. And mine was the same age and she died anyway. I wonder, though—if it was Zaley or An, would I be brave enough to volunteer instead of them? I don't know. I really don't know. I don't want to think about it. But Zaley and Annie are six and five, so I don't have to worry about that yet. I only have to worry about my own name right now. I'm nine years old. Only three more years until my name goes in the ball.

My family needs me, too. Since Rue's gone, they need me more than ever. Rue and I used to do all the hard work and earn most of the money. Daddy got too sick and Mama's busy with the babies and Granny's old. They all do what they can, but it isn't enough. Mama watches other peoples' babies for them so they can work. Granny makes herb medicines and sells them cheap because when someone gets sick, no one here can afford the special medicines that come from the Capitol. If you're sick you either fight it on your own or you die.

Granny is Daddy's Mama and she moved in with us because she couldn't keep fixing up her house anymore. She's the one who had a family tradition of naming us for plants. Rue, Amaryllis, Azalea, Anise, Lily, and Nandina. Katniss's sister is named for a flower too. I just remembered. I hadn't heard of primrose before. I hadn't heard of katniss either, but now we all know that word.

We can't get any farther through the crowd. We're supposed to go stand in front, up on the platform for the tributes' families, but the crowd is too thick to let us through. In a place this big, they don't recognize us. We're just another group of pushing, brown-skinned, curly-haired people. Well, until the Peacekeepers see us and begin to push their way through. People pull away from them, and the white-suited people move easily toward us. No one wants to touch a Peacekeeper.

Zaley tries to act like she's not scared, straightening up and staring right in their eyes. I squeeze her hand to remind her she can't do anything to get us in trouble, which she actually might. Zaley likes to be the brave one, but Peacekeepers aren't a game. She wasn't there the day they shot Martin for putting the glasses in his pants or whipped Delilah because she was eating crops while she worked. They didn't even warn them or think first. They just drew their weapons and bam. It was that fast. We're so powerless. Zaley doesn't understand that or she wouldn't stand up so stiff and glare right in their faces. They could do the same to us as they did to Martin in not even a second, right here, right now, they could whip out their guns and bang and there wouldn't be any consequences. Zaley doesn't want to understand that but she has to.

Annie holds tight to my hand and presses up to my side as the Peacekeepers come closer. She's scared of them. Well, who's not? I don't like even being close to the men in white who tower over me and have whips and guns in arms' reach.

No whips and guns for us today, though. They just stand in two lines, forming a white path just for us. Now everyone is staring. Now they know who we are.

I feel like I can't even look them in the eye, so I sneak glances at them as I pass and it startles me to realize that one of them has brown skin. He must be from here. I've never seen dark brown skin on anyone but District Eleven people. I can tell Zaley is glaring extra-hard at that man. I don't know how he ended up in the Peacekeepers but just because he has skin like ours, I can't help thinking he is a traitor for being in that uniform. He doesn't seem to notice our accusing gaze. He just stares forward like all the other Peacekeepers do.

Up at the platform, we all look straight ahead toward the stage. I don't want to look behind us and see miles of tired eyes and skinny arms and hopeless grown-ups holding hopeless kids. I can't even tell them apart, it's all just one long field of sad and tired. I bet that's what we look like to them and it's funny to think of that, of anyone looking over my Mama in a crowd and not knowing who she is. She's a short woman with wide, dark pink lips. She wears her hair in a braided wreath to keep it out of her way. Her skin's lighter than ours but darker than Daddy's. She's always got the baby up on her hip and she likes to tell stories. When we were little and we were scared, she'd tell us a story about something. Her slow, quiet voice made us calm and her words made us forget. She sings, too, if she thinks nobody's listening but the baby. When we got old enough that she stopped singing to us, Rue started. That's another thing of Rue's that I can't do. Or can I? I've never actually tried. I'm going to have to remember to do that. I want to try singing so that I'll remember the songs Rue used to sing. And I can pass them on so Nandina and Lily remember too, and then they can have something of Rue even if they don't remember her.

Katniss and Peeta aren't here yet. The stage of the crumbling Justice Building is empty. Mama lets go of Lily and tells her sternly,

"You stay right where we can see you. Do not go wandering off, Lily, do you understand?"
"All right, Mama."

"What did I tell you to do?"

"Stay."

"Good girl."

Lily can't stay still, she's got so much energy. She's lucky she's too little to understand. She hops around the platform pretending to be a bird in the field, pulls on her braided pigtails, and sings up at a passing mockingjay overhead, trying to get it to mimic her, but it ignores her voice. She tries again, louder. She doesn't understand how to let the gentle tones flow like a stream. She's making mincemeat of sound. Of course they ignore her.

"Lily, listen." I sing carefully, four notes, the four notes that Rue taught me. Now that she's gone, I'm the one to climb the tree at the end of the day and sing it so the mockingjays pick it up and carry the sound all over the fields. I'm the one watching a chain reaction of workers stopping to listen, packing up their tools, heading home to their families. I'm good at it now. The mockingjay sings it right back down to us, flying another lazy loop above us.

Lily claps and grins. "Again again again!" She demands. "Ryllie, again! Do it again, Ryllie!" So I keep doing it until the mockingjay flies away.

"Hey. I thought you might want to know," says a serious voice. We all turn at once, like a startled flock of birds. A big, dark girl is standing next to Mama. It's Thresh's sister—I don't remember her name—so his family must be here. She points to the front of the crowd, where an old man in overalls is talking to a bunch of people. Some are nodding, others shake their heads and frown.

"That's Crow. He's been saying if they say anything to thank us, we should all do that thing they do in Twelve." She puts three fingers to her lips and holds them out.

Mama and I look at each other, both nervous. I want to show her respect if she honors my sister. But that, here, could be dangerous.

"What's he think he's doing? That man is going to get everybody killed." Mutters Mama.

"I want to do it!" Zaley says boldly. "For Rue. Because Katniss tried to save her and everything. Right, Annie? If I do it, will you?" She acts like it's all a game.

An looks uncertainly at me. She's scared, and she should be. "Are you going to, Ryllis?"

All I can say is, "She'd better give Rue the mention she deserves. Then we'll see."

By the time the speaker finally introduces Katniss and Peeta to the stage, Zaley and I are each gripping one of Lily's arms to keep her from running off after she tried to chase a butterfly into the crowd.

I look up as the doors swing open, and there they are; the two famous faces. Star-crossed lovers, they're called on TV. I don't know what I expected. They look small and very human and very nervous. The Capitol acts like they're such heroes, and made them look like heroes on the screen. It's kind of a shock to realize they're just people.

Katniss goes first and I can tell she's memorized what she was supposed to say beforehand. She talks like she's gone away in her head and stares out above the crowd. She says what she's supposed to say and then it's over, with us still left waiting. She didn't mention anything about what District Eleven's part in the Games. Not a word about Rue. Her name is left unsaid.

I still can't believe it even after Peeta's taken her place and begins to speak. I tune out because it's shaping up to be the same dull, scripted speeches we hear year after year, but then his tone catches my attention. I can tell from the way he hesitates that he's about to say something unplanned.

He wants us to get a month of their winnings. Every year as long as they're alive.

Can they even do that? Will they give that to us? Because it seems like too much to hope for.

If that happens, it means we'll be a little less hungry. Probably less people will starve to death. I won't have to give so many meals to Lily and Zaley and An. We may finally know how it feels to be satisfied from eating.

It also means that he's truly a good person, unlike her. I can tell he really feels bad, he feels horrible, about what happened to Rue and Thresh and everyone here in Eleven, because his face is so sad, because of what he said. He's truly a good person.

Unlike Katniss, who's leaning in to kiss him. Unlike Katniss, who can let other people carry her to the finish and then just forget about everything they did for her.

If it had been Katniss dead, I know Rue would have reminded everyone about the good things she did and what kind of person she was. But Katniss is just going to let that all go by?

And then Katniss is looking at me and I stare her right in the eye with all my anger and disappointment. I stare at the victor of the seventy-fourth Hunger Games and ask her who she thinks she is, in my mind. And I know she sees me, because she steps forward again, toward me, toward the crowd. "Wait!" It's the first real thing she's said all day. Her face is desperate. And she gives the speech I wanted. I smile, satisfied, as she begins to talk about her respect for Thresh.

And when she gets to Rue, I feel fierce and sad and proud and triumphant all at once. The stage and sky go blurry from tears. I squeeze An's hand tight, and she squeezes it back.

Katniss gives Rue a good speech, the one she deserves. She talks about seeing her everywhere. In mockingjays, in wildflowers, and in her own sister. Yes, this is a beautiful speech, the kind that no one from District Eleven ever gets. Thank you, Katniss, for singing to Rue as she died. It was good to know she had someone in that arena. Thank you for the flowers we found woven over her body, making her a person again, rather than just another dead tribute. Your speech today makes it matter. We're not allowed to forget. The Capitol made my sister die but they can't make everyone forget like she was nothing. Not if we want to remember.

Katniss's speech doesn't go much longer than that. She probably wouldn't be allowed to have more time. She just finishes with, "Thank you for your children. And thank you all for the bread."

And thank you, Katniss. For everything. Making my sister someone to be remembered. After everything she did for us, and for you, she should be.

Someone whistles and it jolts me a little because I was thinking about Rue, and for a moment I think she's here, she's whistling for the mockingjays to pick up the sound. But she's not here, so who's whistling her tune?

"Crow!" Zaley whispers, fiercely happy, squeezing my hand. I glance at the screens. There we are, and behind us, Crow stands with his three fingers out toward her, and all around us, everyone is doing the same in a huge wave of hands. It's overwhelming, that sign, that deep feeling, as far as the eye can see. Crow must have been planning this beforehand, because how else would so many people know? I'm afraid and excited all at once. Beside me, Zaley pushes her three fingers out too. I'm thinking of Thresh and Rue and we're all thinking of everyone who died in Eleven and how Katniss made those people matter again. Yes, we love her. Caught up in the flood of emotion, I don't let myself be afraid of the consequences that will come later. I let go of Zaley's hand and put my fingers to my lips. I hold them out for Katniss like she did for Rue. And then, a little less certainly, Anise grips my hand tighter and does the same. I can see us, all of us now, on the screen, Mama doing it too, and Thresh's sister and his Granny with their three fingers out, even Lily, who doesn't understand what's going on, has put her hand up to Katniss.

I don't get a chance to see what Katniss thinks of this, because the screens suddenly go black. Punishment time is here; fear has come for us. The crowd knows it; I can feel their tension and hear them murmuring behind me. What will happen now?

"We've got to get out of here, now." Mama says quietly. I see the white uniforms pushing through the crowd. It's going to be bad. People are starting to force their way, looking like a hive of brown bees. Mama grabs me and I try to grab the others. we're going to have to hold onto each other tightly to not get lost.

We're too late to get away. The crowd's too thick and chaotic. From where we are, we can see everything clearly. They've got Crow by the arms and they're dragging him forward. He's fighting but he's one and they're many and they have the whips and guns. It's the end for him. I knew it would be, but watching, I just don't believe it.

"No!" Zaley screams, pulling my arm, trying to get to him. I don't let her go, but I can't make her turn away. She watches in wide-eyed horror as they push Crow down on his knees.

The shot is louder than I could have imagined. It chokes our breathing and makes our hearts stop right there. Annie's crying hard, holding tight to my shirt. I think she peed when the shot was fired. Nan screams again and again. I drag Zaley away into the crowd. Lily! What about Lily? There she is, holding onto Mama's other hand. We all hang onto each other as the panicked crowd rips at us from all sides. We're all just trying to find family and get away. I can hear more shots, I feel them ripping the air. We're all trying to get ahead of the next person so we won't be the next one to get a bullet in the back. Nandina won't stop her screaming, screaming, screaming. I follow my Mama blindly, holding Zaley and An as tight as I can. Zaley's sobbing too, now, swearing at the Capitol.

We'll never get out of here, not all six of us. But the Victor's Village is just a bit ahead. "Mama, Victor's Village!" I yell. She can barely hear me and she doesn't understand at first. I have to yell it again and again before she says, "Right!" and pulls us toward the gate. It takes a few terrifying minutes before we can even get close. I try to shield Zaley and Annie and I get slammed up against the Village fence a couple times. Finally, we get through the gate, and Mama hugs all of us in her arms. She tries to talk calmly to Nan, who just keeps crying and crying with her face all scrunched up.

These are the houses that are actually houses. Seeder lives in one of them. I know her, kind of. Most houses in Eleven are actually just shacks. What would it be like to live in a house like this?

There's less of a crowd here and we can finally breathe. We'll have to stand on this path and wait for a while as people find there way out. I'd rather rush home like the rest of them, but with so many of us, we just can't do it. I can see that some other big families had the same idea. We're all just huddled in groups, waiting, scared to be standing still like targets with the angry Peacekeepers on our backs, but there's no choice.

Lily's confused and keeps asking questions. She wants to know what just happened, why was there a loud noise.

"Mama, Annie peed. What was the noise, Mama? What was the noise?" she says, and Mama tells her to be quiet now and she'll answer her later.

Zaley pulls away from the rest of us. She's crying and shaking her head.

"We can't keep going on like this," she says, looking up at us with her watery, stunned eyes. "It has to stop. Something has to change."

"Azalea, be quiet!" Mama looks around to make sure there aren't any Peacekeepers to hear her. "You will get us killed, do you understand? Did you see what just happened?"

Zaley just keeps shaking her head., not even bothering to wipe away the tears. She can't believe we're all going to just let it happen. "It has to change," she says again.

And she's right, I think. Things today feel different. This has been going on for so long. I feel something that's been building up. We don't want to keep going on like this; we can't. Something's different now than it has been before. It has to change.