Chapter 22

           Thesoundofraindrummingontheroofofourhousegentlypullsmetowardconsciousness.Ifighttoreturntosleepthough,wrappedinawarmcocoonofblankets,safeathome.I’mvaguelyawarethatmyheadaches.PossiblyIhavethefluandthisiswhyI’mallowedtostayinbed,eventhoughIcantellI’vebeenasleepalongtime.Mymother’shandstrokesmycheekandIdon’tpushitawayasIwouldinwakefulness,neverwantinghertoknowhowmuchIcravethatgentletouch.HowmuchImisshereventhoughIstilldon’ttrusther.Thenthere’savoice,thewrongvoice,notmymother’s,andI’mscared.

           "Katniss,"itsays."Katniss,canyouhearme?"

           Myeyesopenandthesenseofsecurityvanishes.I’mnothome,notwithmymother.I’minadim,chillycave,mybarefeetfreezingdespitethecover,theairtaintedwiththeunmistakablesmellofblood.Thehaggard,palefaceofaboyslidesintoview,andafteraninitialjoltofalarm,Ifeelbetter."Peeta."

           "Hey,"hesays."Goodtoseeyoureyesagain."

           "HowlonghaveIbeenout?"Iask.

           "Notsure.Iwokeupyesterdayeveningandyouwerelyingnexttomeinaveryscarypoolofblood,"hesays."Ithinkit’sstoppedfinally,butIwouldn’tsituporanything."

           Igingerlyliftmyhandtomyheadandfinditbandaged.Thissimplegestureleavesmeweakanddizzy.PeetaholdsabottletomylipsandIdrinkthirstily.

           "You’rebetter,"Isay.

           "Muchbetter.Whateveryoushotintomyarmdidthetrick,"hesays."Bythismorning,almostalltheswellinginmylegwasgone."