I meet Rue's eyes. "That's your big plan? That's how you're going to fix everything?"

"I did say you wouldn't like it," she says. "But at least it's fair."

"It's the only way that's fair," says Wren in a tone like she's like challenging me to disagree. "It's not a nice game, but it's better than the one we're supposed to be playing."

She's right. They're both right, and I can almost accept it. Unexpectedly, I find I can accept the thought of biting into one of the rolls, tasting bitterness for a moment, and then simply never tasting anything again. I still don't want to die. I still want to go home. But after all of the ways I've come close to dying in the arena, and with all of the ways I still could die, it just seems so easy that it's almost appealing. The thought I can't accept, the thought that freezes my arm when I try to reach in to grab a piece of bread and just get it over with, is the thought of watching Rue slump lifelessly to the ground beside me and knowing that she died so I could live.

"I can't do this," I tell them. "There has to be another way."

"There are lots of other ways," says Wren. "All of them are worse."

I ignore her and turn to Rue. "I get why you're doing this." I reach out and touch the back of her hand. She flinches and almost jerks away from me, but when she looks up into my face she must see something reassuring, because instead she turns her hand over and clasps her fingers around mine. "You feel bad for… for choosing Peeta to die, so this time you're trying not to choose. But that only happened because I was trying so hard to avoid the decision. We could have talked about it. I could have at least thought about it. I think—" Even as I say it, I'm finally putting the pieces together. "—that it was supposed to be my decision, that that's the big climax everything was building towards, and I—" I was supposed to kill her, or Peeta was, because the Districts are barbaric and we can't trust each other or hope to work together. If I didn't, if I picked her over him, the drama would still have been ratings gold and it wouldn't have hurt anything, because everyone knows that I'm The Girl Who Volunteered To Save Her Sister and that Rue reminds me of Prim. If someone else had killed us, District 2 would have brought home two victors, and, for whatever reason, they're the ones the Capitol seems to like throwing bones to now and then. Right now, we're off the script. "I have something to make right, too." Peeta wanted to die off the script. In a way, he got that wish, but it was all wrong. "How can I—"

Wren squeals like a wounded animal. My head snaps in her direction. She's staring past me with wide, scared eyes, and past her, off in the distance, I see fire creeping toward us. When I follow her gaze to look behind me, I see the same thing. The Game Makers have gotten bored of us sitting around not killing each other, and they will burn down the whole arena if that's what it takes to make us interesting.

"Katniss," says Rue. "Please."

I wonder what would happen if we all just sat here and waited. The Capitol needs a victor, but I don't think they can afford to let there be three. Raising the number to two was exceptional enough. I can't challenge them on this; there's so little hope that they'll concede, and if they don't we'll all burn to death.

"We're out of time," Wren says. She turns to look at where she dropped her knife, starts to stand, then touches the gash on her arm and falls back to her knees. "No. We already decided. Katniss, if you don't want to pick first, I will, but you have to have one. We all do."

I remember being the Girl on Fire and burning without pain or fear. I remember Cinna. Cinna wanted me to win, but if he had worked with Rue, or with Wren, I think he would have wanted the same for them. That's just how he is. Maybe it's how most people are.

"Katniss," Rue says again, squeezing my hand.

I let go of her and reach into the circle, but I don't take one of the rolls. I take all of them, tear them apart, and grab the nightlock berries that fall out of one. Then I stand and run. Wren gives a startled cry and comes after me, probably hoping to get to her knife, but she has no chance at that. It's farther away than my bow arrows, and I have a head start. I scoop them up and spin around to take aim at her face at point blank range. She brakes her sprint so abruptly she nearly falls over.

"You want to live, don't you?" I ask. Wren glares at me silently. Rue gets to her feet and starts staggering towards us, clutching her wound and wincing, which makes me lower the bow faster than anything either of them could have said. "Don't worry, I'm not going to shoot you." Rue doesn't want that, and it wouldn't be fair. "The price for your life is half of your victory money for as long as you receive it. It goes to my family, understand?"

From the look on her face, she suddenly does. "That's fair enough. Thank you for doing this."

"What are you doing?" Rue shouts at me. She trips, but she's close enough that I can get to her and catch her. I wish I could take a few minutes just to hold her, but Wren is right: we're out of time.

Instead, I lower her gently to the ground, unclip my mockingjay pin, and press it into her hand. "I'm sorry I hurt you," I tell her. "Give Prim my love." Then I turn away from her. I feel her small fingers pull at my clothes before slipping away and hear her call out my name, but I've made up my mind. As I run, I slip one of the berries into my mouth.

Up until now, I didn't understand what Peeta meant by wanting to die as himself, because up until now, I didn't really know who I was. Now that the Game Makers have given me the last clue I needed, I will do what he couldn't.

At the edge of the inferno, I bite down. Bitterness fills my mouth, and I swallow just before I catch fire.