A/N: Gosh, I'm so sorry for the wait, guys! It's up now, though!


Chapter 7: Concerning Escape

"Gone?" I echo him, numb as what he's said sinks in. "You mean she's d-dead?" I can't think clearly through the haze of panic that is clouding my mind.

"No," he says, just as I'm about to lose it completely. "She's alive. Or, she was the last time I saw her."

"Where is she?" I ask, unable to contain my excitement.

"I already told you," he says irritably. "Gone." He cocks his head and I see a glimmer of something akin to amusement in his eyes. "You didn't know her at all, did you, Lover Boy?"

"I—" I have to stop for a moment and think. And then I realize: I didn't, don't know Katniss Everdeen. I know what she looks like, I know the names of her family, but nothing else. The closest I have ever come to understanding her was that day five years ago in the rain. "No," I admit.

"Well, believe me, she's not one to stick around when there's nothing to keep her here."

"But – her mother?"

"Dead," the man informs me bluntly. "Dead for two months."

Though I'd never had any connection to her whatsoever, this news shocks me. It freshens my knowledge of what I've done, how horrible I'd been on that final day in front of the Cornucopia. How far my destruction has spread.

"How?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"Suicide," the man says in a quiet, solemn voice. I can see the shadow of grief in his eyes and surmise that he did know Mrs. Everdeen.

"I'm sorry," I say. There's nothing else to do but turn away. After a moment he touches my back and I see that he's right behind me.

"I don't believe I've introduced myself," he says. "I'm Thom Foundry."

I shake his hand. "Peeta Mellark," I reply, though I'm certain he already knows. Everyone knows my name, thanks to a certain flower. "Didn't Katniss have a friend – Gale?" Boyfriend, I think, but don't say it. I'm certain she'd stay here for him.

"He left with her," Thom tells me. Then he glances around furtively. "We can't talk about this here," he mutters. I know he's right. Even now I can see a Peacekeeper with curly red hair watching us intently. I stare steadily back at him and he looks away.

"Right," I breathe back. "Know anywhere we can?" My house obviously isn't an option. The cameras only cleared out a week and a half ago.

"My place," Thom offers. I nod and follow him through the near-deserted streets until we reach what can only be called a shack. Maybe four rooms at most with an undeniable air of hopelessness. But the inside is different – there's a clean, if somewhat faded, tablecloth and a bouquet of wildflowers in a chipped cup on the table. Although the furniture is shabby and coal dust is very present, sunlight streams through the single window to dance on the water in the sink.

There's a woman washing dishes there, middle-aged with strength etched in every line on her face. Her gray eyes appraise me and I can't read the expression in them. Recognition flits across her features, but she still asks, "Who's this?" Her voice is hard like steel and wary, but not harsh.

Thom doesn't answer, so I do. "Peeta Mellark, ma'am."

"I see." She turns to Thom. "Why?"

"There are… things he needs to know."

She gives me a long look, still unreadable. Finally she nods. "Well, Mr. Mellark, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Hestia."

"It's nice to meet you, too."

With that, Thom leads me to an absolutely tiny room that's almost completely filled with a bed. He sits down on the edge and gestures for me to do the same. When I have, he begins to talk.

"When you won, it was pandemonium. It was like a mining accident. Everyone had been in the streets already, watching on the bigger screens, and then – her cannon fired, and you'd think it had hit the district. Complete chaos. People couldn't really decide what they thought. I mean, you'd won, we had another Victor! But everybody's met Prim. You can't help loving her."

His matter-of-fact, calloused words send a pang through me. Reminding me that I've committed an unspeakable act. And that I will go to my grave regretting it. I can almost hear the hammers on my coffin.

"Gale was already at the Everdeen house, he'd watched the entire Games with them. He went over there with a huge, hopeful grin on his face. I remember he said, 'She's so close to winning. I can feel it in my bones – she's going to come back.'

"I didn't have a chance to meet up with him afterward, but he didn't show up the next day. It was a weekend, so it didn't really matter. But then it was Monday, and he didn't come to work. They sent some Peacekeepers to his house and it was empty. That Darius fellow, he knew how close Gale was to Katniss, so he checked their house, too, in case he was still there. That one was empty, too.

"Gale'd been talking about running for a while. He wanted to escape. As close as I can figure, he stayed at the Everdeen house for the rest of the day, and then all night. Sometime while he was there, Mrs. Everdeen left for Prim." I know exactly what he's talking about, because there's no doubt that Primrose's mother committed suicide to find her daughter. "I imagine that, with no one left, Gale took some back roads to his own house and somehow convinced his family to leave. They probably slipped under the fence just a few hours after that."

So she's gone. The shock's worn off slightly, but not much. I can't say I'm incredibly upset about it, though. There's the fact that I love her, that I'll never see her again. I'll live the rest of my life wondering where she is, or if she's even alive. But she'll never have her name in the Reaping balls again. She won't have to witness the poverty and wails of hunger that I can still hear through the thin walls. She'll be as safe as she can be, in this very dangerous world.

Away from the Capitol's iron claw, there's a small spark of hope. But it's so tiny, and Prim is dead, as well as her mother. Katniss is gone. So many horrible things begin to overwhelm me. The spark doesn't go out, not yet, but the icy waters of grief are so thick that I can no longer feel its warmth.


A/N: I know this probably sounds both desperate and redundant, but please review! I think I went out on a limb in this chapter and I need people to tell me if it's plausible.