[Perhaps it's sheer willpower. Perhaps it's reconciling the true and false memories. Perhaps it's simple stubbornness.
But the first place Clove goes when one world begins to collapse and another is knit back together in front of her eyes, when the memories of District Two and the Hunger Games begin to weave amongst the high school is the lake.
Her little camp has reappeared. Tiny and effortless. So she sits there, knees tucked to her chest and her right hand clutched over her left, holding it against her chest, feeling her mother's ring that had been used as an engagement ring in the lie. She watches as the grand mansions begin to disappear, as the full ring of trees repopulates the lake.
And, while she's alone at least, she manages not to cry.]
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But the first place Clove goes when one world begins to collapse and another is knit back together in front of her eyes, when the memories of District Two and the Hunger Games begin to weave amongst the high school is the lake.
Her little camp has reappeared. Tiny and effortless. So she sits there, knees tucked to her chest and her right hand clutched over her left, holding it against her chest, feeling her mother's ring that had been used as an engagement ring in the lie. She watches as the grand mansions begin to disappear, as the full ring of trees repopulates the lake.
And, while she's alone at least, she manages not to cry.]