“Peeta.”
He jolts from his seat on the chaise. She’s so quiet he hadn’t heard her approach, “Katniss.”
It’s evening now, well past dinner. She must have dined at the Abernathy’s. He’s had hours to review their initial encounter, too much time to dread and anticipate a reprise.
“I didn’t know you’d be here. I requested some milk from the kitchen.” She waved her hand in the direction of the hall, “I can ask Sae to send it to my room…”