Peeta begs me to watch the sunset with him. The vibrant orange sky reminds me of the glow of a campfire in summertime. It sets off a warm feeling in my heart, assuring me that everything will be okay.

He gives me a content smile and says, "I guess it's time to get back to work."

"Yeah," I murmur. "Let's find Darius."

Darius frequents a place known as the Hob. It's sort of like a market for less than legal transactions. Merchants sell banned products that can't be bought anywhere else, and lately women have been selling themselves to desperate men for profit. Romulus Thread has been trying to shut it down ever since he came to District 12.

We enter the Hob and wander around until I spot Darius with Haymitch. The two of them have been friends and drinking buddies ever since Haymitch got promoted. They come here to buy some type of white liquor that isn't available at the local bars. It comes from the Capitol and has been banned in almost every district.

"There she is," the head executioner mutters. "Friends with a murderer. This is why you didn't get the promotion, sweetheart. You're too damn soft."

I brush off the insult and take a seat beside Darius. Hopefully he isn't too intoxicated to answer my questions. "You remember Peeta, right?"

He gives a faint nod. "Yeah. You're the kid who was beaten to a bloody pulp by Romulus."

"And you're the one who pulled him off me," Peeta says with a friendly smile.

I'm not sure how to bring up Madge's murder without drawing suspicion to myself. Executioners aren't authorized to do anything other than punish criminals. That being said, I decide to just come out and say it. "I have reason to believe that Peeta had nothing to do with the death of Madge Undersee."

Darius doesn't seem surprised. "This boy isn't a killer." He leans in close to my ear and whispers something almost inaudible. "I'll let you in on a little secret. Romulus accused the baker's son so that he wouldn't have to investigate the crime."

"You can't be serious," I say just a little too loudly.

He places a finger on my lips to silence me. "It's completely true. We have no evidence to imprison Peeta Mellark, let alone kill him. Now, how about a kiss as payment for the information?"

I am disgusted by this new information. Peeta is going to be executed because Thread doesn't want to do his job. "What else do you know about the murder?"

"Someone was seen fleeing the scene of the crime," he says. "He or she has not been caught."

My body is rigid and coursing with anger. "And you haven't bothered to look for this person?"

Darius swings an arm over my shoulder and presses his lips to my ear again. "It's not up to me. Romulus calls the shots around here, and he has a grudge against the kid's family."

"What kind of grudge?" I ask him.

Haymitch pulls us apart before the peacekeeper can answer. "Get the boy out of here. There's going to be trouble if Thread sees him."

I drop to the ground and pull Peeta down with me. Sure enough, Romulus Thread appears seconds later with a paper signed by the mayor. He gets into an argument with an obviously drunk Haymitch, giving us a chance to get away. We sneak through the crowd of people and exit the Hob undetected.

"I can't believe this!" I shout into the darkened sky.

Peeta tries to calm me down with a gently hug. "It's going to be okay."

I grip his shirt tightly in my hands and bury my face in his neck. "You didn't hear what Darius said. Thread is going to let you die because he resents your family."

His fingers trail down my back, soothing me. "Let's go home."

We make our way back to my house in silence. I open the door and run up the stairs to my room, throwing myself onto the bed. The tears I have been trying to hold back are flowing freely down my face. He follows me into the room and continues to comfort me with his touch.

Our next coarse of actions is to confront the head peacekeeper. Whatever he has against the Mellark family can't be bad enough to kill someone over. I'll pay Thread a visit tomorrow and figure out what the hell is going on.

"Feeling better?" he asks me.

I straighten up and dry my tears. "Yeah."

"Good. I'll see you in the morning." He moves to leave the room but I wrap my arms around his waist, preventing him from going anywhere.

"No. Stay."

He settles down on my bed and pulls me into his embrace. "This is exactly how I imagined spending the rest of my life."

I don't understand how he can be so calm in this situation. Most of the people I deal with will beg for their lives up until the very end, but Peeta has already given up any hope of escaping his fate. "You're not going to die. I refuse to shoot you."

"Katniss, let's be honest. If you don't do it, then someone else will." His hands rub my neck and shoulders, making me feel pleasantly warm. "At least you will make my death painless."

That's true. He will barely feel a thing when the arrow strikes his heart. "You don't deserve this."

My words earn me a kiss on the forehead. "I'm happy that you care about me. Get some rest." He covers us with the blanket and closes his eyes, drifting off to sleep.

I rest my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. The sound gives me a sense of comfort and relief. He is still alive. I keep that thought in mind as I follow him into dreamland.

The morning light shines brightly as it invades my bedroom, rousing me from my sleep. I protest the new day by nestle my head into the pillow, refusing to get up until yesterday's events flood my mind. My eyes snap open and I sit bolt upright, waking Peeta.

"Two days," I tell him urgently.

He rolls onto his stomach and yawns loudly. "What are you talking about?"

"We only have two more days until the execution!"

I urge Peeta to take a shower while I find him something to wear. My father's clothes have been gathering dust in the closet since he died, and I dig through the boxes of clothes until I find a fancy shirt and matching pants. I toss them on my bed, then head toward the downstairs bathroom to bathe.

My goal is to make him look presentable when we pay the head peacekeeper a visit. I want him to see Peeta as a regular member of society rather than a prisoner. Maybe then Thread will tell me what I want to know.

I get dressed in a hurry and meet Peeta in the living room. "Ready to go?"

He tugs on the collar of my father's shirt. "I guess so. How do we know he won't kill me himself?"

"The execution has to be public." I grab my bow in case the head peacekeeper decides to disobey the rules.

Today is Thread's day off. He spends his free time at the gym, where he conditions his body to keep up with the younger generation. Getting old can't be easy for a man who takes great pride in his work.

I don't hesitate to walk up to him while he is lifting weights. "You should know that one of your peacekeepers told me about your dirty little secret."

The heavy training equipment crashes to the floor. "What secret?"

"You accused Peeta of murder because you hate his family." I watch as the head peacekeeper's eyes narrow to slits.

"Hold your tongue, Ms. Everdeen. I know something that could cost you your life." The stern look on his face leads me to believe that he is telling the truth.

Peeta nudges my arm and motions to the gun strapped to Thread's belt. I arm myself with an arrow as the man in front of us reaches for his weapon. We glare at each other for a long time, neither of us daring to break eye contact with the other.

"It's you, isn't it?" Peeta asks, breaking the silence. "You're the peacekeeper that was in love with my mother."

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