"The 73rd isn't much better." Peeta rubbed a line in the middle of his forehead with the tip of his fingers. "Not that any of them are, no matter who wins."

The way he turns that last sentence it's obvious. No one wins. Even the Victors lose. Maybe especially the Victor's, going on to new rounds of torture each year as the price of succeeding.

Peeta doesn't know yet. He can only supposed, watching Haymitch so close these last months. The Victory Tour is only two months away, and he doesn't want to know anymore than he does. But it's all going and time won't stop anymore now than it ever would before.