One year after its beginning, the Repopulate Twelve Initiative is over.

The reason is obvious: the cause that pushed for its creation simply doesn't exist anymore. The district has far more people than it has ever had before the war and many babies are still coming.

The day that marks our first wedding anniversary is sunny and breezy like the same day last year. Things are so different, though. I wake up next to my husband with my heart full, my body still naked from last night's lovemaking, in a house that smells of fresh bread and cake. He must have been preparing our breakfast and then came back to bed so that I didn't wake up alone, as he usually does.

Peeta snores softly and his blond curls fall upon his forehead. I can't resist his cuteness and end up touching his hair. Then, blue eyes look at me with a frown of confusion until he regains consciousness of the room around him, and I feel guilty for waking him up. But he wraps me sweetly in his arms, presses his lips against mine and says:

"Happy anniversary, wife."

"Congratulations for bearing with me for a whole year, husband," I chuckle and kiss him more. "Happy anniversary."

After cuddling for a while, we have a shower, get dressed and go downstairs to have breakfast. There's literally everything I like at the table: at least three different types of bread (how many wives does Peeta think he has?), cheese buns, blueberry muffins, custard tarts and the anniversary cake, replicating several types of trees in a forest during the most beautiful orange sunset. Under the trees there can be found deer, squirrels, arrows, a girl with a braid, a blond boy. Each time I look at the cake I can see more details. His talent never ceases to amaze me.

"This cake is so precious, Peeta. When did you get the time do it?"

"I had to get you tired last night," he says with a chuckle. "I prepared everything yesterday but spent the night doing the cake."

Poor thing. That's why he was sleeping so soundly this morning.

"I'm sorry for waking you up," I say sheepishly. "But you looked so handsome. I couldn't resist touching you."

Peeta grins.

"It's good you did. Today is a special day," he says. "Our wedding was such a sad affair, last year."

"You hated the idea of marrying me," I reply.

"Because there was a lot of information we didn't have at the time," he says. "We didn't know that the love we felt was mutual, for example."

"That tends to be important in a marriage," I chuckle.

Peeta grins and gets up to get something from the studio. Coming back, he shows me a gift envolved in plain wrapping paper.

"Is that your present for me?" I ask.

"No," he laughs. "This is for both of us, from our publisher. It arrived yesterday."

I hurry to unwrap it with Peeta's help; we know it's our children's book and I can't wait to see it.

We look through every page. Our book is a wonder. The drawings are almost dreamy and the narrative seems very interesting. I'm very proud of having done this with Peeta of all people. I want every family in Panem to read our story, to empathize with our path, to help our country become a better place for children in the future.

After we finish our breakfast, Peeta announces that he has a surprise for me, which by itself isn't a surprise at all. He has been acting weird for a while now, keeping secrets, sending me on errands and disappearing now and then.

He packs the leftovers of our breakfast and puts them in the car. Before we leave, he brings an old piece of cloth from the bedroom and proceeds to carefully blindfold me. Then, he helps me get into the passenger seat.

"Where are you taking me?" I ask him when he starts the car.

"You trust me, right?" he chuckles nervously.

The car departs to the left, goes down the slope and turns to the left again. It drives a little more, stops and turns to the right.

"You're driving to the train station," I guess.

Peeta laughs and rubs his hand sweetly on mine.

"Are you sure of that? I'm driving in circles so that you lose your sense of direction."

I'm not sure of anything anymore. Now that he has distracted me I have no idea, so I just cross my arms and wait until the trip is over. And it's not a quick or easy trip: it's full of slopes, ledges and curves. It leaves me speechless, because every road in district Twelve is simple and straightforward. Are we leaving the district? Also, why doesn't Peeta say anything?

"You're not usually this quiet," I comment.

"I'm scared you won't like the surprise, actually," he confesses.

"Why wouldn't I?" I ask him.

"It may have been a little too much."

I don't respond, but I'm worried nonetheless. I think about the kind of things he may deem as too much and nothing occurs to me. Only something extreme, like fleeing the district, and we obviously don't want that, so I have no idea.

After a while, Peeta announces that we are almost there. A couple of minutes later he stops and I hear someone opening a gate. The window of the driver's seat opens and I have my first clue of our whereabouts: the place smells like trees.

"Good morning, Mr. Peeta," a male voice says.

Peeta thanks the man but is careful not to say his name. The car advances to what I believe is some kind of property, and then my husband says:

"We have arrived at our destiny."

I can hear children laugh and a female voice telling them to behave. The sound of their muffled giggles comes closer and closer. Has Peeta brought me to an orphanage? Does he want to adopt a child?

He gently helps me out of the car and removes the blindfold off my eyes. The first thing I see is a line of children, a flock of small dark birds, accompanied by a couple that seems to be their parents. The parents grin at me, the children chuckle at my cluelessness, and I realize I've seen their faces before. They were just not nearly as happy as they seem now.

It was in the Victory Tour. I can't believe it, it can't be real. It's Rue's family.

I don't know why, but my eyes flood with tears and my first reaction is to try to hide it. Suddenly the adults are crying as well and they envelop me in a tight hug. Still, I don't understand what's happening.

"Are we in district Eleven?" I ask.

Everyone laughs in the middle of the tears.

"No, we are in district Twelve," the oldest child says, the one that looks like Rue.

I bite my lip. I should have known Peeta would do something of the sort. Thresh's young sister and her husband are already working at the bakery to learn how the Mellark's brand works, since we have decided to have her manage the bakery that's going to open in district Eleven next winter. All profit that comes from that bakery will be hers. The house above it and the bakery will be registered in her name, although the business will be a Mellark's franchise.

Unfortunately, we couldn't give Thresh and Rue's families one month worth of our earnings per year, as Peeta and I had wished. Victor's earnings are considered a big deal under the new law, since the whole country is unanimous in thinking that we must be repaid for all we've lost and done. There's a decree which states that our monthly earnings can't be given to other people in any circumstance, extreme need or disease being the only possible exceptions. There can't be any undeclared money transfer either, so, if we want to offer monetary help to people, it must be given through a purchase or a service. It seems odd in a free country like Panem. We asked President Paylor about it and she told us that the rule was made to protect the living victors from blackmail, fraud, cons and robbery.

There are other ways to keep our promise, however, and we've been working on finding them. We can still give these people jobs and physical objects. Having found a solution for Thresh's sister, we've been talking about building a home for Rue's parents and siblings for months now.

Rue's parents excuse themselves, saying that they will leave us alone to enjoy our anniversary in privacy. They sound very well-informed. At their command, the children go to the other side of the fence and start playing with a ball.

"I'm sorry I didn't ask," says Peeta with a heavy blush, clearly second-guessing himself. "But I thought I would love to see the look on your face when you found out."

I usually hate surprises, but I'm still not sure about this one. I still don't understand.

"Peeta, what is this?" I ask.

"This is your lake house," he murmurs. "I bought the place from the district so that it could be ours for real. Before someone had the same idea."

"The lake house? How?" I ask, staring at the freshly-built house in front of me.

"Turn around," he says.

I do as he says and I know immediately he's right. How is this possible? That's our lake, the lake that belonged to my father and I. We walk to the water. Maybe if I can get there I will be able to locate everything as it used to be. But the old house is nowhere to be seen.

Looking back to the place where the house was, there are two houses that look very similar to each other. Both houses have a common wall around them, concrete walls that end in the water, and are divided by a wooden fence.

"Don't worry, the old house is still intact," Peeta says, holding my hand. "Come and see."

It's true. The old house is still there, between the two new houses, safe and unlikely to be further disrupted by the elements. Although the wooden fence seems to divide the two new, bigger houses in equal parts, our side of the fence includes the old house as well.

"Maybe the old house can be a playroom for our children, if we ever have any," says Peeta. "Otherwise, it's a beautiful memory of your father that wouldn't be preserved otherwise."

"Is this ours now? Really ours?" I ask.

"Yes, it was registered in our names," says Peeta. "Since you're not allowed to leave district Twelve, I wanted to build a place here that resembled our private beach back in district Four. You were happy there."

I nod slowly. It's a good idea, but there's still something I don't understand.

"Did you build the other house for Rue's family?"

Peeta nods and smiles.

"Yes, and they won't be completely alone here when we are in Victor's Village," he says. "Bligh and India are building their plantation nearby and they will move there soon. That's why we convinced Thom to build the road that brought us here. I made sure no tree was taken out of place to achieve it, though."

I haven't even considered how we could have reached this place by car. Curves and slopes apart, the journey from Victor's Village to the lake was easier than it would have been expected.

I'm absolutely adoring this, but Peeta looks scared. That's the price he must pay for keeping secrets from me, so I make him suffer for a while.

"When did it start?" I ask.

"I decided to do it the first time you brought me here," he confesses.

I shake my head in awe of my ignorance.

"Are we broke after this?" I ask.

"All my savings are gone, yes," he says with a shrug. "We can start saving again next month."

This is perfect. Haymitch is right: I could live a thousand lifetimes and I will never deserve this man. But he deserves everything he wants and, luckily enough, what he wants is me. I'm not sorry for being the one who gets to live these moments with him.

All of a sudden, my arms envelop his neck and my legs straddle his torso. This surprises him and we almost fall off to the ground, but he steadies himself in time.

"I loved it," I say. "But this is a lot. I only bought you a kit to make three dimensional wall paintings."

"You what?" he asked, almost ecstatic, as if there was a possible comparison between the two gifts. "Where is it?"

"At home."

"I can't get there soon enough to paint our walls."

We go home because my husband wants to show me the house. It has three bedrooms, a sitting room, a kitchen and a bathroom. It's furnished in a minimalist style; nothing in it is opulent or too fancy. It is served with water, electricity and good plumbing and it also has a phone and a television. When Peeta opens the wardrobe of our bedroom, I see he has already brought clothes for me to wear when I'm here. The bed is already made, sheets included. There's a new set of trunks and bikinis in a drawer. The kitchen has plenty of food to cook. Peeta has thought of everything.

We go to the water and he floats while I swim. In the end of the summer he'll be a good swimmer, I'm sure of that. There will be enough training. Everything around us looks good, and it's obvious everything was carefully made, everything respectful to the nature around us.

We have lunch with Rue's family in a picnic table outside of their house. I'm informed the parents will make a living taking care of our lake house when we're not here. The district's new bus will pick the children up for school every day of the week. The parents can call the cab when they want, since their house has a phone. Rue's mother insists it's her obligation to cook for us every time we come, although we assure her that's not the case. We try to tone their subservience down, but the best thing we can achieve is to stop them from calling us Mr. and Mrs., and instead Peeta and Katniss.

It's good to eat with them, though. Peeta and I get to learn more about the family and about Rue. Her mother cries a little. I cry, too. Her father gets quiet whenever Rue is mentioned and suddenly, sometimes, adds some details that have been missed. On the surface, the children seem to have coped with their loss better, as they are very noisy and bubbly. They love to climb trees and defy me to see who can climb the highest one. I must say I don't win that contest.

"Won't you miss district Eleven?" I ask the parents at some point.

"In a place like this?" Rue's father asks, pointing to the green woods and the blue water of the lake, and all of them laugh.

I can't help but think that, in a different world, Rue would be sitting here with us, probably next to Prim, and everything would make complete sense. But then I remember that, for Rue to be alive, we wouldn't have been able to live our story. The realization is heartbreaking.

We take a nap and make love, and then spend the sunset in the water, watching the colors of the twilight as the night falls slowly and the birds return to the trees. We are still there when the sky gets dark and starry, the owls and foxes start producing their sounds and we can only see each other's faces because of the moonlight.

I think about my father and what he would think if he could see this place now. He would have never been able to buy this land or build this house, but he was the one who made this place feel like home. My father would be ecstatic to see his little girl still coming here after all these years, to see how her life is good despite everything.

"You're remembering him," Peeta smiles.

"My father would have loved this," I reply.

"I wish he could be here with you," says Peeta, giving me a hug.

"Me too," I say wistfully.

Sadly, my father will never see what my life has turned into. The thought fills me with heartbreak for the second time today.

Even though we have the best friends we could ask for, family wise Peeta and I are alone in the world. We only have each other to fulfill several important roles that should have been assured by other people. Peeta takes care of me like my father would have wanted to do, and I take care of him as I would want my son to be taken care of. But Peeta is so much more than that. He's my husband, my lover, my best friend and my hope in the future.

One person can't replace another, but they can take care of us like the deceased person would, if given the chance. My father taught me how to explore life and all things that surround me, but now Peeta is helping me navigate through them. I'm doing the same for him. Ultimately, that's everything my father would have asked for. So I can finally let him go, knowing that he lives forever in my flesh and in everything I do, and will also be a part of my children, if I have any.

And, although he isn't here anymore, I'm happy. Strangely enough, this happiness doesn't make me feel guilty at all.

"The only thing that feels better than being here with my father as a child is to be here with you now," I declare.

Peeta's eyes get wide open and his face registers surprise. He knows exactly how amazing my father was and he's fully aware no one compares to him.

"You really love me, don't you?" he asks.

I splash water in his direction. Did he still have any doubt about that?

"No," I tease, "I just pretend very well."

The grin Peeta gives me in response can light the whole district.

We leave three days later to fetch Johanna at the train station. She has finally decided to come to district Twelve and tell Bligh that he is the father of their baby.

Her hair is now longer than before: it's similar to how it was during the Quarter Quell. She doesn't look like she had a baby a month ago and she only brought a small bag with her, which means she wants to get back to her son as soon as possible.

"Where's Axel?" I ask.

Our godson – Jo has invited us and Annie to be his godparents – didn't come with her. Godparents are a tradition that comes from before the Dark Days, when people still believed in gods. Panem has no religion, but the godparents' tradition is slowly reemerging amongst the younger generations as a way to honor people of their circle.

"With Annie," she replies. "I will bring him to live here if things work out."

"What if they don't?" Peeta asks.

She doesn't reply.

We get home and have lunch together. Rue's mother cooked us a lot of food and insisted on sending it with us, so I guess we won't have to cook for almost a week. Johanna gets emotional when we tell her about the lake house and the fate of Rue's and Thresh's families. She isn't one to admit being emotional, though, so she just laughs at Peeta for being too over the top, as she puts it.

A while later our youngest cat shows up and Johanna immediately points at him.

"Look at that cat," she says. "It's huge."

"Tiger is getting overweight," Peeta confirms, looking guilty. "I think we've been giving him too much food. The disadvantage of living in a baker's house, I guess."

"Are you for real?" Johanna guffaws. "Well, I don't know who's the most brainless in this house."

"What do you mean?"

"That cat is obviously pregnant."

"What?" I ask, dumbfounded.

"She's a Tigress, not a Tiger," Johanna shakes her head.

"Well, that would be impossible even if he was a female. Tiger is still a baby," says Peeta.

Johanna snorts.

"The ignorance. Do me a favor, Mellarks, educate yourselves and try to find a good vet in this jungle of a district before the cat gives birth," she says.

If this is true as I think it is, Tiger and Buttercup's babies must be a nightmare like their parents. I picture it in my mind: the house full of kittens, my arms scratched, every piece of furniture damaged, my husband overjoyed by their presence in the house, probably allowing them to destroy everything. I scowl and cross my arms instinctively.

"How many kittens does a litter usually have?" Peeta asks.

"I'd say about four to nine," I reply, remembering how Prim used to adore looking at every litter as a child.

At that moment, I see Bligh pass by the window, probably going to meet the Abernathys and India for lunch. He sees our main door is open and knocks.

"Oi Katniss, how did you like your surprise?" he asks, still from outside.

My heart starts pounding. I didn't think he would see Johanna so fast or even today; I'm suddenly frightened at all the possible outcomes.

"Come in," Peeta says.

Bligh walks into the sitting room.

"Did you see my future house?" he asks me with a grin.

"I did, and I'm mad at you for hiding it from me," I say with a scowl. "How many people knew about this?"

"Everyone?" Bligh says, looking guilty.

I figured. That's why they desperately needed me to feed the geese for a whole month now, anytime Peeta wanted to go somewhere.

"She loved it," Peeta chuckles.

"I did," I confirm. "What's your part in it?"

"I was just there for moral support and for my opinions about -"

Just then he sees Johanna, cuddling our pets like a cat whisperer, and blushes.

"Oh. Hi," he murmurs, his mood getting darker when their eyes meet.

"Hello," Johanna says with a blank face.

"Maybe it's not a good time for me to come," Bligh says. "You guys are busy, I'll be back later."

He turns to leave, but Johanna's voice stops him.

"Actually I came here to talk to you."

"To me?" he asks, dumbfounded.

"Yes, in private."

Bligh looks to Peeta and I and then back to Jo.

"No," he says. "Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of them."

"I'd really prefer it if it we talked in private," Johanna insists.

"That's not possible. And you're going to tell them everything, anyway."

I want to be somewhere else. This isn't a conversation I want to listen to. "This is awkward for us," I say.

"Yes. We really don't want to listen –" Peeta starts, but Bligh stops us with a gesture.

"Stay here, otherwise I'll have to go. It would be incredibly disrespectful to India if I accepted to talk to her in private."

He has a point. Unable to go away, I cross my arms, look down and pretend I'm deaf.

"Say it," Bligh urges Jo.

She looks nervous and vulnerable as she gets closer to him.

"I think I already know the answer, but I was wondering how you would feel if you saw me here."

Bligh snorts. Not in scorn, but in shock.

"Are you aware that I am married now?" he asks.

"Yes," says Johanna. "But I'm also aware that you still have some days to annul your marriage if you want to."

"Why would I do something like that?" he asks.

"Because I have changed," says Jo.

Bligh sighs.

"I would never exchange my wife for you, Johanna," he says. "I don't mean it as an insult. I just wouldn't exchange her for anything in the world."

"I see," says Johanna, almost red from shame. "So… Everything you told me was a lie?"

"They were not lies at the time, but they are not true anymore. I'm sorry. Are you staying for long?"

"I'm leaving today."

"Good. I'll feel better if India doesn't see you," he says.

"You don't have to hide me from your wife," Jo replies. "I won't harm her."

"I don't hide anything from my wife," says Bligh, looking almost shocked at the possibility. "She knows everything about my life, that's why I don't want her to see you. I don't want her to feel embarrassed."

Johanna smiles sadly.

"It seems that things worked out for you in the end. You never told me anything about your life."

"You never asked. I couldn't even talk in front of you, you always found a way to demean me," Bligh says.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I can't erase what happened. You're allowed to have a past, you know. Your wife surely will understand that."

"I'm still trying to come to terms with it myself. I'm ashamed of my past. I wish I could forget. I feel disgusted with myself every time I remember you and the way I was living my life while she was enslaved -"

"Then I'll go," says Johanna, on the verge of tears. "I'll disappear."

Bligh shrugs, apparently embarrassed by his outburst. "I'm sorry." He starts walking away.

"I hope you'll be happier with all your past gone," she yells as he leaves the house.

Peeta and I rush to hug Johanna once it's clear Bligh is gone for good. She wipes the unshed tears from her eyes and then allows a lot more to fall down her cheeks.

"You didn't tell him," Peeta says softly. "About the baby."

"How could I?" she asks. "He didn't give me the chance."

"Do you want me to get him back here?" I ask.

"No," she says. "I'll do it alone. It will be better this way. I don't need his help to raise my son."

"But Axel needs a father," says Peeta, almost perplexed.

"I'll manage," Johanna replies. "You heard the things he said, Katniss. Would you still him tell after hearing that?"

"Maybe not," I concede.

"Imagine the embarrassment of telling his wife."

"She would accept it in the end," Peeta assures her.

"What I'm really afraid of is his reaction when he knows about my son. I'd kill him if he reacted to his existence in this manner. Axel is just too special to be seen as a burden."

Johanna leaves district Twelve in the same afternoon, swearing to never tell Axel the truth about his biological father. Weeks later, she tells us that she paid a destitute man to register the baby as his, so in the end our godson is registered as Axel Fisher.

Not long after that, we receive the first invitation to present our children's book at the Capitol.