I must still look perplexed because Gale delivers the next line very slowly. “Katniss…he’s still trying to keep you alive.” To keep me alive? And then I understand. The Games are still on.

I am not pretty. I am not beautiful. I am as radiant as the sun.

I'm running on hate. When the energy from that ebbs I'll be worthless.

The way she kissed you in the Quarter Quell…well she never kissed me like that…I should have volunteered to take your place in the first Games. Protected her then…I guess it’s Katniss’ problem. Who to choose…Katniss will pick whoever she thinks she can’t survive without.

What does this mean? It means I get to spend the morning having the hair ripped off my body while Peeta sleeps in.

Positioned on my dresser, that white-as-snow rose is a personal message to me. It speaks of unfinished business. It whispers, I can find you. I can reach you. Perhaps I am watching you now.

As we trudge back through the woods, we reach a boulder, and both Gale and I turn our heads in the same direction, like a pair of dogs catching a scent on the wind. Cressida notices and asks what lies that way. We admit, without acknowledging each other, it's our old hunting rendez-vous place. She wants to see it, even after we tell her it's nothing really. Nothing but a place where I was happy, I think.