He could never turn his back on her. Not fully. It simply wasn’t the sort of person that he was. Peeta didn’t hate, not truly. He was hurt and he was upset and felt betrayed in a way that was similar to and nothing like what had happened in that first arena. The first time she had hurt him it had been due to faking a love that was real to him, of conspiring to keep him alive when he would have died for her. This time it was about something so much bigger than either of them. It was about the loss that they had both shared that she had kept to herself.

It is more than just about them. It always had been. He wanted to shake her and tell her to stop. To stop feeling awful when she was a victim like they all were. They had been manipulated, played and how could she not just see that?

Instead he stood in the doorway, looking at her and then at the boy in the bed. Then her words him in like a ton of brick. Involuntarily he took a step backwards, staring at her and then at Gale. She was trying to get away and he knew that and reached for her arm. Catching it he turned towards her.

“What?” A new set of emotions was hitting him. “What? Does he know? How long have you known?”