“Even in the arena, you two had some sort of system worked out, didn’t you?” asks Peeta. His voice is quieter now. “Something I wasn’t a part of.”
“No. Not officially. I just could tell what Haymitch wanted me to do by what he sent, or didn’t sent,” I say.
“Well, I never had that opportunity. Because he never sent me anything until you showed up.” says Peeta.
I haven’t thought much about this. How it must have looked from Peeta’s perspective when I appeared in the arena having received burned medicine and bread when he, who was at death’s door, had gotten nothing.