"Maybe I'd think that, too, Caesar," says Peeta bitterly, "if it weren't for the baby."
My heart comes to a stop and my hands fly to my stomach.
They knew now. They all knew.
The tender intimacies shared by Peeta and I on the train are now public knowledge. But, any privacy we may have once had had vanished when we were named the victors of the seventy-fourth Hunger Games. I had, however, foolishly thought that this particular piece of my relationship with Peeta would remain between us. I should have known that nothing could be hidden anymore.
The audience can't absorb the news right away. It has to strike them and sink in and be confirmed by other voices before they begin to sound like a herd of wounded animals, moaning, shrieking, calling for help.
The buzzer sounds, but the crowd is still riled up in a frenzy. Peeta shakes Caesar's hand, and comes to me with tearful eyes. I embrace him tightly, shedding a few tears of my own. I knew what he was thinking- I could practically see the wheels turning in his head. He was prepared to die to keep me alive. He would become a martyr to keep our baby and me alive. I couldn't let him do it. I could never let our baby live without a father. I knew what that was like, and how much it hurt.
No. He wasn't going to die. I won't let him.
As he pulls back from our embrace, I see the fear in his eyes. It sends a current of fear through me. As we hold hands with the other tributes, I'm barely keeping it together.
When the cameras shut off, I turn my face away, a few stray tears leaking down my cheeks. I quickly run off of the stage, dragging Peeta behind me.
Haymitch and Effie are waiting in the wings, faces agape at the bomb Peeta had dropped. At first, Haymitch believed it was a publicity stunt, but now, seeing me cry, he believes. Peeta finally stops and cradles my face in his hands, whispering reassurances in my ear. I nod my head woodenly. Haymitch and Effie come up behind us, encircling us like a wall of protection. Other tributes pass us, and I can feel their stares boring into me. Some are sympathetic, others were indifferent. Effie's hands find purchase on my shoulders. Peeta grips my hand tightly as we break apart. We are the last to leave.
We leave in silence.
