these for your friend,” she says. I take off the lid of the box, revealing half a dozen vials of clear liquid. “They’re my mother’s. She said I could take them. Use them, please.” She runs back into the storm before we can stop her.
“Crazy girl,” Haymitch mutters as we follow, my mother into the kitchen.
Whatever my mother had given Gale, I was right, it isn’t enough. His teeth are gritted and his flesh shines with sweat. My mother fills a syringe with the clear liquid from one of the vials and shoots it into his arm. Almost immediately, his face begins to relax.
“What is that stuff?” asks Peeta.
“It’s from the Capitol. It’s called morphling,” my mother answers.
“I didn’t even know Madge knew Gale,” says Peeta.
“We used to sell her strawberries,” I say almost angrily. What am I angry about, though? Not that she has brought the medicine, surely.
“She must have quite a taste for them,” says Haymitch.
That’s what nettles me. It’s the implication that there’s something going on between Gale and Madge. And I don’t like it.
“She’s my friend,” is all I say.
Now that Gale has drifted away on the painkiller, everyone seems to deflate. Prim makes us each eat some stew and bread. A room is offered to Hazelle, but she has to go home to the other kids. Haymitch and Peeta are both willing to stay, but my mother sends them home to bed as well. She knows it’s pointless to try this with me and leaves me to tend Gale while she and Prim rest.
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