"Ally." Peeta says the words slowly, tasting it. "Friend. Lover. Victor. Enemy. Fiancee. Target. Mutt. Neighbor. Hunter. Tribute. Ally. I’ll add it to the list of words I use to try to figure you out.
Both my voice and body have a jerky, disjointed quality, like a puppet being manipulated by unseen forces.
You’ve given them an opportunity. They just have to be brave enough to take it.