HEART

Gone.

"We're sorry, Mrs. Odair, to inform you that your husband has fallen during the battle on the Capitol. We won't go into great detail, for your sake, but we'll return his things to you--if there are any to return--when the team comes back. Again, we're as devastated as you are at the death of Finnick Odair, and if there's anything we can do for you, let us know."

It was like a foreign language. Annie kept looking at her hands as if they didn't belong to her. As if they were going to reach up and strangle her. Every moment was a battle to survive. To stay sane. Every moment was terrifying without the whispers of reassurance from her husband, from Finnick, and now he was gone? The room could have heard her heart break if they'd had earplugs in.

She stared at the woman, her puppy dog eyes begging this bearer of bad news to take her horrible words back. "Thank you for letting--"

Waves. Crashing waves. The ocean. It screamed in her ears. She swam for her life, swam until everyone was dead, swam until her limbs wanted to break off. She swam until every part of her that made her special had drowned.

"Annie," Primrose Everdeen cooed, leading her back into the hospital bay. "You should lay down."

---

Months passed. Every day, like a dog awaiting its master at the driveway, Annie prayed Finnick would waltz through the door, fall into her arms, and never leave her again. He would whisper sweetly in her ear his praise and affection, he would chase away her fears. He would take her back from her nightmares. He would keep her in the land of the living.

Annie held a hand against her chest for a lingering moment as she stared down into the crib holding her baby boy. His eyes were as bright as his father's. And she prayed every day that he'd have at least half as much heart.