My name is Peeta Mellark. I come from District 12.

Because of Katniss I survived the Hunger Games; because of Katniss I'm alive.

Remember who the real enemy is. The real enemy is the Capitol.

The real enemy is President Snow.

"Peeta, you had us worried," I can't place the voice, or the hand that's holding mine tight with concern. It feels so warm.

It's so bright in here. It's probably deliberate, bright white, disorienting. Light in my eyes. It goes away.

"Peeta?"

"I'm not..."

"We got you out-we just managed it. The-the arena..." there's a pause. She confers, urgently, quietly with someone beside her, "a terrible thing happened I can say that, right?"

"Katniss?" I ask.

"She's not here. We rescued Johanna though, and Enobaria."

I know that. I knew that.

They separated us.

It was a trick.

I want. I want to sit up. Have I lost any more body parts? I start to move but I'm tied down. I struggle against it.

"Now, now," someone else comes over, "be careful-take it easy. Let's not rupture anything."

"Where am I?"

"You're safe. This is a Capitol hospital. The-the rebels Beetee, and Finnick and Katniss-they fled."

"No." I shake my head, "That's not-" I try to get out again, but then everything is warm spreading from my left arm through my body and then...