The Escapist

I automatically rise and, as I do, I sense Peeta reaching out for me. Tears run down his face as I take his hand. […]

I turn spontaneously to Chaff and offer my hand. I feel my fingers close around the stump that now completes his arm and hold fast. And then it happens. Up and down the row, the victors begin to join hands. Some right away, like the morphlings, or Wiress and Beetee. Others unsure but caught up in the demands of those around them, like Brutus and Enobaria.

By the time the anthem plays its final strains, all twenty-four of us stand in one unbroken line in what must be the first public show of unity among the districts since the Dark Days.