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Some hours later I wake in Cato's bed. The bed is made up on his side so perfectly, it's doubtful he even tried to sleep. When I'd left him he'd still been trying to break the lock off of the journal. I rub the sleep from my eyes, trying to make out the glaring red numbers of the alarm. 4 AM. Ugh.

I groan and peel back the covers. There's no sense in trying to go back to bed, no matter how ridiculously early it is. My hair is still wet from my shower hours ago and the bathrobe on my body is burning hot. I fear I must look like a mad woman. Wandering over to Cato's wardrobe I run my fingers over the many shirts gifted to him by the Capitol that he will probably never wear. I slide one off the hanger and bring it to my nose. It smells like him. Clean, fresh, hint of aftershave. Without another thought I unbelt the bathrobe and slide his shirt on in its place.

Papers, weapons, and untouched coffee litter the table in the adjoining room. A mangled lock lies abandoned in the middle of the carpet. Cato is bent over some type of map—his head turning back and forth between the document and Snow's book.

"You're still up?"

The chair legs scrape against the floor as his body starts at the sound of my voice. I run my hands over the smooth grain of the fireplace hearth, feeling his eyes on my back, monitoring my every movement.

"Is that my shirt?"

"Mmhmm," I nod.

"Are you going to give it back?"

"Nope."

I turn to walk towards him, fully intending to start something. Immediately I press my lips together, trying so hard to suppress my laugh. Cato is in the most unnatural state I've ever seen. His hair sticks up every which way, there is ink on his cheek, and his bug-eye glasses brand him as a warrior nerd I'm sure he never was. My attempts are unsuccessful and a gurgle comes out.

"What?" His eyes go even wider and his mouth hangs open in confusion.

I shake my head and look at the floor.

"Well, spit it out."

"No, no, it's been a long night."

"Katniss, seriously, why are you looking at me like that."

"I'm sorry….are you wearing glasses?" I press my fingers over my mouth and pretend cough, trying to hide my grin.

"Shit," he says, peeling them from his face. "I forgot I had them on." He pauses, looking sheepish. "What's wrong with them?"

"Nothing." My smile grows wider.

He crosses his arms as embarrassment heats his cheeks. "Look make fun of them all you want, but this is important. And I need them to read."

Cato sensitive about glasses? Imagine that.

"No, no I like them," I say, taking a step closer. "They make you look very…scholarly."

He frowns as he folds the glasses and places them in his pocket. "There, now we can stop talking about them."

"Don't be mad. Now we're even." I plop down in his lap, my hands finding his and placing them on my hips.

"So you've forgiven me for last night then?"

"Maybe I was being a little too sensitive."

His hands squeeze my hips harder. "Good. I don't like fighting with you."

"Me either. You know, I really was just kidding about the glasses."

"I know," he sighs. "the other kids used to make fun of me in school. So when I went to academy I decided just to be blind. Sometimes I'll bring them out if I'm really struggling."

"Well, did you find anything? I see you managed to get the lock off."

"Yeah," he mutters under his breath. "That's about the only thing I've accomplished." He flips the journal away from us impatiently. "This thing is useless…all full of riddles."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, it's in code or a different language or something."

I pick it up and prop it open to a random page. An unfamiliar scrolling script stares back, its unnatural symbols and peculiar dots taunt us to decipher it.

"You've never seen it before?"

"No, never. I even sent a selection of it to Ruby in a note, but she doesn't know what to make of it either."

"Great, so we're not any closer to figuring it out."

"Well, I did find some drawings," he rubs his eyes as he picks up the book and flips to the page in question. "See here, it's like a city plan or something. And then on this page it looks like a diagram to a building."

"Anything you recognize?"

He shakes his head. "All of it looks top classified. Military stuff you know. An airbase, ammunitions depot, codes for doors and such." He points to each of the figures.

"Stuff we wouldn't have access to…"

"No. I did pull out some old maps of the Capitol and District One, but nothing seems to line up."

"But you must have some friends in combat right?" I ask, backtracking. "I mean peacekeepers primarily come from One, don't they?"

He sighs. "I mean, yeah, the hard part is finding one you can trust to not squeal. I have a buddy or two who can probably be trusted."

"Any close by?"

"At this point I'd have to ask around. It's been so long since school, I have no idea what anyone is doing anymore. These things seems to change at the drop of a hat anyways."

I nod. "At this point there's not much more we can do."

"No," he shakes his head, "Cinna will be here for you soon anyways, or did you forget?"

I groan. I had forgotten. Our tour with the schoolchildren. Snow had organized a tour of the Capitol's elite academy, as well as a meet and greet with the students. Hours of pure organized torture with fake smiles, kind words, and remembering things I'd rather forget. Cato and I were both conscripted as part as victor duties.

"I'll go ahead and write those letters, get them out this morning. I'll meet you at the school. I don't take near as long as you to get ready anyways."

"Hey, be nice," I warn, tugging on his ear. "It's not by choice."

"I don't have the raw materials to work with like you do." He grins and kisses me on the cheek and he places me back on the floor. "I'll see you in a little bit, 12."

The children form an attentive mass in front of us. An overwhelming sense of bewildered awe radiates from each little face, filling the clean but small cafeteria we've all been place in. The students might as well be identical grey blobs. The girls are all dressed exactly the same in sky blue button-down dresses and sensible oxford heels. Similarly the boys have all been placed in crisps shirts tucked into slate grey working trousers. Cato and I are dead ringers for the children too. My hair has been wound around my head in the same practical dutch braids and Cato's has been gelled into militant order, so contrary to the bedhead mess he was sporting this morning.

This isn't a school at all, in fact. It's Snow's miniature clone army.

"It's such a pleasure to meet you," a geeky voice materializes from the crowd, breaking the silence. The man that steps forward is tall, slender, and pale as milk. He twitches nervously as he shakes my hand. It takes all my power not to wipe the sweat from his palm on my dress.

"I'm Cassius, the Superintendent here. I'd be delighted to give you a tour of the school. The children will join." He clasps his hands together excitedly and turns to lead us down the hall. Cato catches my eye, but otherwise does as he's told.

The pitter patter of tiny feet behind us is unnerving as we peer into each little classroom. Unsurprisingly, they are all identical—neat, orderly places for Capitol propaganda spreading and indoctrination. Cassius drones on in a monotone, recounting the school's entire history and every accolade.

The school seems to have everything that children like Prim could never dream of—a small stage for productions, bathrooms with plumbing and running water, as well as a full-sized gymnasium. The truly impressive feature of the academy is the sprawling library. Book upon book rises up in stacks from floor to ceiling. Truly every chronicle of the Capitol must be housed in here—no doubt for the schoolchildren to craft gripping reports that laud the accomplishments of the Capitol.

Excited murmurs come from the crowd behind us. I turn to see what they are all looking at. There stands Snow in all of his crowning glory.

"Impressive isn't it, Miss Everdeen," Snow addresses me, ignoring Cato.

"Yes, it certainly is. Thank you for the privilege of a tour."

He nods.

"Now that the tour is finished, it's time for luncheon!" Cassius interjects.

"Yes," Snow says, "I was hoping you'd join me Miss Everdeen. And Cato can join the Superintendent.

Cato's smile barely disguises his irritation at being stuck with the silly twit. Reluctantly, he leaves my side to join Cassius.

"The two top students will join us as well," Snow says. He beckons to the crowd. "Marcellus and Julia, please step forward."

A hulking ten-year old and a brunette girl emerge.

"Both Marcellus and Julia battled bravely for a meeting with you," Snow explains. Julie stares at her shoes, smiling proudly. "Only the boy and girl with the top grades were awarded the honor. And it is quite an honor to meet a Victor, isn't it?" Snow is taunting me.

"Yes," I say, gritting my teeth. I force the false words out before I allow myself to change my mind. It's expected of me. "Perhaps one day, some of you will be able to experience the prestige of being a Victor."

"Yes, excellent." Snow claps his hands together. "And now luncheon is served."

The students disperse back towards the cafeteria with Cato, Marcellus, and Cassius following. Snow leads Julia and me into a private room in the opposite direction. The best meats, cheeses, and fruits lie on an elaborate sideboard in front of is. Shining candlesticks and the best china have been brought out. We take a seat at the table in our respective places as the avoxes serve our plates.

"Does everything look good?" Snow looks at me expectantly, waiting for a compliment.

"Yes, it looks delicious. Thank you President Snow. You'll soon learn of the President's generosity in all things, Julia."

I squeeze her hand and she smiles.

Snow looks pleases. "You'll act as a mentor to Julia. It is our duty as Capitol citizens to teach our young ones about the Capitol and guide them on the path to greatness. Wouldn't you say?"

"Please Julia, feel free to ask me anything."

"How many kills have you made?" She wastes no time.

I almost choke on my cracker. "Excuse me?"

"In the Games?" She clarifies, as if her question is the most normal in the world. Like she had just asked me if I liked milk with breakfast.

"Uh, I'm not sure exactly," I stutter, trying to recover. "two, maybe three, I haven't kept a tally."

"How young were you when you learned to fight?"

"Um…I didn't. Learned in the arena. Natural talent I guess."

Nervously I take a sip of my wine. I turn to Snow for guidance but he looks back blankly. Apparently he's expected conversation of this sort. Julia peppers me for the next hour with excited questions. I muster patience and answer each as calmly as I can. This has to be believable.

Finally the clock hand hits the top of the hour. Cordial goodbyes and thanks are exchanged in due deference and then Julia is escorted from the room. Just Snow and me now.

"Dessert, Miss Everdeen?"

"Oh no, no thank you. You've been so kind but I'm full."

"I'm sure you have room for one bite," he motions to the avox. She comes forward and sets a chocolate pie on the table. Snow picks up the knife and cuts us two equal pieces. He sets the plate in front of me. "Eat."

I cut off a portion with the fork and place it in my mouth. Of course, it's delicious.

"You'll need to gain some weight to bear children."

I almost choke again, but manage to swallow the pie without sputtering.

"Bear children?"

"Cato and you will no doubt marry soon. So you've led the public to believe."

"Mmm," I say noncommittally.

"It is expected of you. These things however dreary and commonplace are the things celebrated by the public." He twirls his fork around. "No matter how unpleasant we may find them sometimes we have to sacrifice for the common good."

"You find children a sacrifice?"

"Children have always bored me, Miss Everdeen. But they are the future and they are important. It would be a shame for you to miss out on such a celebrated milestone."

"Certainly." I clear my throat and take a sip of my wine. "I'll have to talk to Cato of course."

"Oh, and one more thing you might want to discuss with him…"

"Yes?"

"I think you may have something of mine." Snow reclines back in his chair lazily and steeples his hands underneath his chin, the expression on his face akin to how a cat regards a mouse.

My throat constricts and my heart hammers wildly. The journal. He knows about the stupid journal.

"Uh I'm not sure what you mean?" I count the breaths silently in my head, hoping my body looks calmer than I feel.

"Something I value has been stolen from me. I'd like it returned."

"Well, with all respect President Snow, I don't think Cato and I can help you with that."

"Cato is a nice boy. I've always been fond of him. Did you know that?"

"No," I reply, taking another bite of my pie. I don't like where this is going.

"Yes, early in his youth I discovered him. Routine trips to the districts and all that. He was smart…athletic of course. But something else stood out about him. He has the mark of greatness. And even then Miss Everdeen I knew he was destined to do great things."

He leans forward and tops off my wine.

"So I took him under my wing. I taught him what he needed to know, found him a place in the best schools. I've continued to take a personal interest in him and watch over him all his life. It'd be shame for me to stop now."

"I'm sure he's very appreciative of all you've done President Snow. I know he speaks very highly of you."

"Yes. But do you understand what I'm saying Miss Everdeen?"

"I do, yes, I think so."

"And you will please tell Cato to return what's been stolen from me when he's done playing with? It will not do him any good in his possession anyways."

"Of course, I will relay the message, although I know I, and Cato, both have no idea what it's in reference to."

"Thank you very much, Miss Everdeen. That will be all. You are dismissed now." He waves me away. I force my feet to move slowly until I'm out the door. The minute my footfalls are out of earshot I run as fast as I can….all the way back to Cato's rooms.

"Cato, he knows!" I cry as I break open the door to his apartment.

But it seems Cato has already got the message.

Maps and papers are everywhere. The bookcases and side tables have been overturned. Drawers have been removed and lamps have been broken. The place is trashed.

Cato stands in the middle of the chaos, surveying it all.

"What the hell happened?"

"Snow's men," I would guess. Cato put's his hands on his hips. "Somehow he knows."

"I know he knows! At luncheon he flat out accused us of taking it! And he said all the stuff about how he protected you and was kind to you, and it would be a shame to lose his favor!"

"Sshhh," Cato walks towards me and grabs my hands, pulling me into his embrace. "You're babbling."

"He knows you have it Cato, you have to give it back!"

"No, he doesn't know. He's trying to figure out if we have it. That's why he had his men overturn this place and that's why he invited you to lunch. He's trying to crack you…to get you to mess up and say something."

"Well, I didn't say anything I promise."

"I know you didn't."

"Well where is it? Did they find the book?"

"No, no, calm down," he says, rubbing my back. "It's safe and sound, right here." He pats his pants pocket. "Had it on me the whole time."

My shoulders drop in relief.

"It's alright. He won't find it," he reassures me.

"What are we going to do now?"

"Do what we do best of course. Playact and deny, deny, deny."

"We need to figure out what the hell is in this thing Cato, and then get rid of it. And fast."

"I'm working on it, kid. You just gotta trust me."