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A
thought
hits
me
,
and
I
'm
amazed
the
question
's
taken
so
long
to
surface
.
Maybe
it
's
because
I
've
only
recently
begun
to
view
Haymitch
with
a
degree
of
curiosity
.
"
How
do
you
think
he
did
it
?
"
"
Who
?
Did
what
?
"
Peeta
asks
.
"
Haymitch
.
How
do
you
think
he
won
the
Games
?
"
I
say
.
Peeta
considers
this
quite
a
while
before
he
answers
.
Haymitch
is
sturdily
built
,
but
no
physical
wonder
like
Cato
or
Thresh
.
He
's
not
particularly
handsome
.
Not
in
the
way
that
causes
sponsors
to
rain
gifts
on
you
.
And
he
's
so
surly
,
it
's
hard
to
imagine
anyone
teaming
up
with
him
.
There
's
only
one
way
Haymitch
could
have
won
,
and
Peeta
says
it
just
as
I
'm
reaching
this
conclusion
myself
.
"
He
outsmarted
the
others
,
"
says
Peeta
.
I
nod
,
then
let
the
conversation
drop
.
But
secretly
I
'm
wondering
if
Haymitch
sobered
up
long
enough
to
help
Peeta
and
me
because
he
thought
we
just
might
have
the
wits
to
survive
.
Maybe
he
was
n't
always
a
drunk
.
Maybe
,
in
the
beginning
,
he
tried
to
help
the
tributes
.
But
then
it
got
unbearable
.
It
must
be
hell
to
mentor
two
kids
and
then
watch
them
die
.
Year
after
year
after
year
.
I
realize
that
if
I
get
out
of
here
,
that
will
become
my
job
.
To
mentor
the
girl
from
District
12
.
The
idea
is
so
repellent
,
I
thrust
it
from
my
mind
.
About
half
an
hour
has
passed
before
I
decide
I
have
to
eat
again
.
Peeta
's
too
hungry
himself
to
put
up
an
argument
.
While
I
'm
dishing
up
two
more
small
servings
of
lamb
stew
and
rice
,
we
hear
the
anthem
begin
to
play
.
Peeta
presses
his
eyes
against
a
crack
in
the
rocks
to
watch
the
sky
.
"
There
wo
n't
be
anything
to
see
tonight
,
"
I
say
,
far
more
interested
in
the
stew
than
the
sky
.
"
Nothing
's
happened
or
we
would
've
heard
a
cannon
.
"
"
Katniss
,
"
Peeta
says
quietly
.
