In The Hollow Of His Hands

by MTK4FUN

Mrs. Everdeen considers her past while she attempts to build a new life in District 4 after the War. Originally written for the 2018 ms2sl charity fundraiser.

The office is small, but the view is inspiring, a sandy beach with blue waves lapping at its shore. It's the thing I like best about District Four – scenery so unlike my former home in Twelve, and from our wartime detention in Thirteen.

I need different these days because I don't want to be reminded of the past, of the person I used to be and the life I used to have. I'm not that person anymore. But I don't know who this new person is either. Or if it is possible to ever feel better again. Maybe the counselor can help me figure it out.

The wicker chair I sit in is more comfortable than I would have guessed. Across the desk, a woman near to my own age gazes at me.

Her countenance appears serene. Panem may have just come out of a war, but she doesn't look like it impacted her much, unlike the face I see reflected in my mirror that is haggard, tired, and old. But then, I've given a lot to the rebel's cause – the lives of my family.

"Hello, Lily," she greets me. "I'm Elizabeth. Why don't you tell me why you're here?"

I wring my hands, wishing I had something to do with them. I could get a set of needles and knit, but there's no need of wool garments in Four because it never gets very cold here.

After an uncomfortable silence, I blurt out, "I can't cope anymore. The medicine isn't working this time."

"You recently moved here, didn't you?"

I nod. "I'm staying with Annie Odair at her house in Victor's Village."

"What about your family?"

I blink back angry tears.

"One daughter is dead, and the other has been exiled to Twelve."

She acts surprised when she realizes my identity, but I know her reaction is phony.

Everyone knows who I am because of my children. All of Panem knows about them.

"I see. You didn't want to go back to Twelve with Katniss?"

A wave of emotion flows over me. Anger. Shame. Guilt.

"We're not close. She wouldn't want me. Besides the district is in ruins. There would be no work for me."

The Capitol destroyed Katniss, replacing her with The Mockingjay, a broken girl who I don't understand.

You were once lost, too.

But I force that memory away. It's too painful to think about. To remember when Glenn was taken from me. I thought that loss would kill me– I wanted to die. But somehow I managed to survive.

I guess I'm stronger than I know.

"Maybe we should start at the beginning," Elizabeth says. "Tell me about when you were young."

When I was young?

I let out a nervous titter. "How much time do you have?"

"Don't worry about the time. My schedule is open today."

"All right then." I lean back into the chair, close my eyes, and take a deep breath.

"I'm the only child of parents from the merchant class in Twelve. They were the district apothecaries. I had a happy childhood until I turned 12 and the nightmares began."

"Your nightmares were very normal," Elizabeth says. "Every child in every district had them. I had them, too."

I open my eyes to stare at her in wonder. Four was considered a Career district. Surely you relished the killing. Trained for it.

"Continue," she encourages me.

"When I was sixteen one of my closest friends, Maysilee Donner, was reaped for the Second Quarter Quell. Up to that point, I'd been a good little merchant girl, but after that my eyes were opened. There didn't seem to be much point in following the rules if it could all be taken away at any moment."

"You became depressed?"

I sigh. "Yes. That was my first episode. My parents knew how to treat it though. My mother concocted a special tea. It helped to stabilize my mood."

"So your life returned to an even keel?

I shake my head. "Things changed in Twelve after Haymitch Abernathy won those Games. We got a new Head Peacekeeper who liked to show his power by whipping anyone who stepped out of line. Consequently, people were coming almost daily to the apothecary seeking remedies to treat the injuries of their loved ones.

"One day, the mother of a fifteen-year-old boy came to us. Her son was whipped because he attacked a Peacekeeper who had raped his thirteen-year-old sister. The woman was so distressed that I volunteered to show her how to clean his wounds and apply the medicinal salve.

"His wounds healed rapidly. She must have told others of my talent because soon families were bringing their loved ones to the back door of the apothecary for me to treat their lashes.

"My parents weren't happy about my reputation as a healer to those deemed troublemakers. Dad said selling them medicine was all right, but what I was doing would draw undue attention to our family.

"They'll be coming for you next," he warned.

"But being able to help those who'd been whipped built up my confidence."

I laugh bitterly. "Maybe it made me too bold because I began to see myself a something of a rebel, too.

"Things only got worse when I attracted the attention of Glenn, the man I married. He was from the Seam – the impoverished area in Twelve where the miners lived - and he snuck under the fence to hunt and gather. My parents criticized his illegal actions, although they bought plants from him to make into medicines."

Elizabeth nods. "It's normal for every child to see things differently from their parents. It's how we separate ourselves from our families. How we grow up."

They were hypocrites.

"I fell in love with Glenn. Deeply in love. So much so, that I gave up everything to marry him. My parents, my inheritance, my community standing – everything."

Elizabeth looks surprised. "Your family disowned you?"

"That's how it works in Twelve when you marry outside your social circle," I explain. "Glenn's family disowned him, too. Initially I thought it was so romantic – just the two of us against the world – but having no one on our side was difficult.

"Glenn was a miner. He worked long hours, leaving me at home all day in the Seam to keep house in a shack so old and rundown that there was nothing I could do to keep the coal dust out of it. My friends in Town rejected me, and the women in the Seam snubbed me because of my pretty clothes and…."

A memory of Glenn's handsome face interrupts my train of thought. "My husband was one of the best-looking men in the Seam," I blurt out.

Elizabeth gives me a quick smile, as I mentally caress that handsome, olive-complexioned face with its dark brows, silvery eyes, and full lips.

"I wanted his child so badly. But I couldn't get pregnant, although it wasn't for lack of trying. Of course everyone said it only proved that Seam and Town blood weren't meant to mix."

"You grew despondent?"

"Very much so. It was my second bout of significant depression, but I didn't want to use the tea to treat it as I'd done previously because it would have reduced my ability to conceive. I did my best to hide my sadness from Glenn, but he knew. He urged me to take care for myself and forget about children. But I was determined to have a family, and after a few years I became pregnant.

"My spirits lifted, and as the pregnancy progressed I grew more outgoing and began to be accepted by the others in the Seam. People remembered my talent for healing and sought me out for assistance to treat their sundry illnesses. It truly was the happiest time of my life."

"Katniss was your eldest?"

"Yes. She was a beautiful baby. A perfect blend of the two of us. My features and Glenn's coloring.

"Of course from the moment she was born we worried about the reaping."

"Perfectly normal. Every new parent had the same fears."

"My husband was particularly concerned since the majority of the children's names pulled from the ball in Twelve lived in the Seam. So as soon as Katniss was old enough he began to take her into the woods.

"Our daughter enjoyed the outings beyond the fence with her father, never knowing that the purpose behind them was far more than the gathering of plants and the hunting of game for food. It was to strengthen her, to teach her how to survive in unfamiliar surroundings, to give her the chance to climb trees, learn to swim, to shoot a bow." My voice drops. "To prepare her in the event she was reaped.

"Unfortunately, Glenn had also become associated with some miners who were talking of rebellion. He got even more involved after Prim was born. We argued over it. I told him his connections would cause us trouble."

My voice chokes and I'm suddenly transported back to that horrifying day when the siren went off signaling there had been a cave-in at the mine.

All of the emotions of that moment come over me again. My throat tightens and I can hardly breathe.

"You've been talking for a long time," Elizabeth says. "Maybe we should stop here."

"All right." My hand goes up to brush the tears that run down my cheeks.

"I'll see you next week."

I find a rest room to wash my face. My eyes are swollen and my skin blotchy from crying.

I can't let see Annie see me like this. That poor girl has enough problems without worrying about me.

Attempting to compose my thoughts, I stroll along the boardwalk. Around me happy couples walk with their arms linked. It's a life I'll never experience again.

I search my heart. Am I happy about that? I'm only forty-one.

A familiar-looking man sits eating his lunch, overlooking the sea. It's Dr. Baile. I recognize him from the hospital where I am called "nurse" even though I have as much experience as most doctors there due to my work in Twelve, Thirteen, and briefly in the Capitol.

He's a few years older than me, with a cheerful face, a head of thick, fading copper-colored hair interspersed with strands of gray, and an easy-going demeanor, so different from Glenn's serious, passionate nature.

"Gorgeous day," he calls out.

"It is," I reply, stopping a few feet from the bench where he sits. I rest my hands on the railing and look down at the sand where a mother with young children builds a castle.

"Aren't you Lily?"

I turn to look at him. "I am."

"Would you like a cookie? I can't eat both of these." He holds out a sugar cookie.

"No thank…" I begin, but he doesn't listen, and instead leans forward, reaches for my hand, and places it into my palm.

"I insist you take it. My daughter made it."

I give him a faint smile, hoping not to burst into tears at the word daughter.

I had two daughters once.

My rational mind takes over. Just thank him and get away.

"Thank you." I put the cookie to my lips and take a tiny bite. I can taste the butter as it melts on my tongue. "It's very good."

He grins. "It is, isn't it? Funny how a little treat can lift one's spirits." Abruptly he stands up, far too closely to me. "I'll walk back to the hospital with you."

My face gets unexpectedly warm. "I'm not working today. I was just out for a stroll."

"Oh, then have a nice jaunt."

He lifts his hand in a half-waving gesture. Baffled, I watch as he saunters away.

I continue my walk nibbling on the cookie, but now my thoughts have become jumbled. When I finish the cookie, I turn to go back home to Annie. Helping her will steady my mind.

The comforting routine of work rescues me the next week. I only see Dr. Baile once in passing and he doesn't bring up our meeting on the boardwalk. For once I pay attention to the gossip at the nurse's station and learn that his first name is Declan although everyone calls him Dee. He's been widowed a long time, the same as me.

All too soon, the day arrives that I am to see Elizabeth again. I have avoided thinking about our conversation completely.

"Have you had a good week?" Elizabeth asks as I settle into the wicker chair.

"It was all right."

She smiles at me. "I'd like you to pick up where you left off. You were talking about your husband's rebellious associations."

I wonder at how easily this woman can pull me back into those memories. Thoughts I've tried to stamp out permanently from my mind.

"There was a mine explosion," I say matter-of-factly. "Glenn was murdered, along with a few others in his crew."

"Murdered?" Her mouth falls open.

"For a long time I thought it was an accident, but later, there was talk that it was done deliberately. That the proper safety precautions were not taken."

Her brows furrow. "I see. What happened afterwards? Did you return to live with your parents?"

"My parents were dead by then; the ownership of the apothecary had been passed along to a cousin who would have nothing to do with me."

Shame comes over me as I remember that time. I collapsed mentally and physically. It's a wonder the girls were not sent to the Community Home.

"I took to my bed."

"What about your children?"

My voice lowers. "They made due."

"Did your husband's family help, or perhaps a neighbor?"

"You don't understand Seam folk."

An uncomfortable silence hangs in the room.

"So that was your third bout with depression?"

"Yes."

"How long did it last?"

"Almost six months. Glenn died in the winter. I was on the mend by the time summer came round."

A fleeting memory pops into my head. Katniss bringing home burned bread. I didn't know where she got it. I thought at the time she'd picked it out of the garbage at the bakery. Only later, much later she talked about it during a propo. Peeta had tossed it to her.

"My daughter…Katniss began going into the woods by herself to gather plants and hunt for us. When my health returned I resumed my work as a healer."

"So your life settled down?"

"No."

My family was broken. My oldest daughter despised me because she'd seen my weakness, and my youngest was traumatized at the loss of her father. Every day Prim polished his shaving mirror, magically thinking if she could get it clean enough he'd return from the dead.

Elizabeth stares at me waiting for an explanation.

"Without Glenn it would never be normal again."

"I see. Tell me about the day your daughter was reaped. We all saw that moment on television."

I can hardly breathe. I certainly don't want to talk about it to this woman. It was a mother's worst nightmare. One child doomed to the sacrificial altar, and the other rushing forward to pull her sister off and jump up in her stead. And I couldn't do a thing about any of it.

My voice is stiff. "It was agonizing."

"How did you feel during the Games?

Sitting alongside Prim as I watched Katniss in the arena defending herself from the dangers that would have been Prim's to face, it was like I was being torn apart. The physical presence of Gale Hawthorne who watched much of it with us, and who in so many ways reminded me of Glenn when he was young, made me oddly thankful that my husband had not lived to see that horror.

I stare defiantly at Elizabeth.

Don't go fishing in my pain. This is none of your damn business.

"I wasn't depressed if that's what you're hinting at. I had no time for that. Besides my daughter won the Games."

"And saved her district partner as well. You should be proud of her."

Right. So proud.

I remember Henry Mellark's fool wife paying me a visit after her son bragged that his father had wanted to marry me.

Upset over her husband's schoolboy fantasy that he'd foolishly admitted to his son. Then those stupid Capitol commentators made such a big deal over the matter, doing an entire television show about our "supposed love story." I even heard a whisper or two about Prim's coloring, how she resembled the baker's sons more than her own flesh-and-blood sister.

"Lily," Elizabeth says.

I startle.

"I think I lost you there for a moment."

"I wasn't depressed during those Games. I just don't like to think about that time."

"Of course. It's perfectly normal. So what happened after your daughter won?"

"We all moved to Victor's Village."

We were richer than even the Mayor. It was exhilarating to have so much that we could give freely, and not feel as if we were scrapping by. I hadn't felt so free in a long time. Still there were side effects I never considered.

"It was a beautiful house, but both my daughters were suffering. Katniss had terrible nightmares, and Prim was guilt-ridden over her sister taking her place."

"What about you?"

"I was all right."

"You didn't mind the Capitol supervision of your lives?"

"The Capitol has always controlled our lives in Twelve." My voice is shrill. I try to explain, not wanting Elizabeth to think me severe. "We had enough to eat, new clothes to wear, and hot water came out of the taps. I was grateful for that."

Elizabeth's eyes glance down at a clock that sits on her desk. "You'll need to stop here. I have an appointment I must keep."

I run my tongue over my lips. My mouth is parched. How long have I been speaking with her?

I stand up.

"We'll meet next week at the same time?"

I nod, although I don't see what point there is in meeting again. Re-telling my story to Elizabeth – what good will it do? It makes me sick to dredge up the past and speak of it. I feel the pain all over again.

After my session, I go home to check on Annie. The poor girl lies listlessly on the sofa in the living room. After hearing of her husband's death while in Thirteen, she collapsed.

I understand her despair, even consider myself fortunate in comparison because at least I had many years with Glenn before I lost him; Annie had only a month with Finnick. That poor man never even knew his wife was expecting.

Annie has her good days; although there are many that are bad. Still I try to keep her mind on the child that will be arriving in the summer. That is the only way I can ensure that she eats properly and gets enough rest.

The week passes normally enough, except that I run into Dr. Baile regularly at the hospital, as we're assigned to watch over the same patients.

Some doctors are so emotionally detached that they border on cold, and they treat the nurses in their charge derisively, like many in the hospital in Thirteen did. However, Dr. Baile is nothing like that. His manner is calm, gentle even to patients and staff, alike.

A tiny part of my brain suspects he might be sweet on me, but I convince myself it must be the upcoming change of life that is causing me to think so foolishly.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"How was your week?" Elizabeth greets me for my third session.

I have been off work the past couple of days and my mood has gone sour. I woke up this morning from a dream that I could hardly remember with the thought that I needed to take out the hem of Prim's dress and lengthen it so it would fit better.

But on the heels of the thought was the realization that has sounded in my head every single morning upon awakening these last few months – Prim is dead. My daughter is gone and I'll never see her face again.

If Annie hadn't chosen that moment to make some noise in the kitchen, I think I would have screamed out in despair.

But I was able to stifle my anguish.

At this point I'm something of an expert.

"It was okay," I mumble.

"You left off after Katniss won the Games and your family moved to Victor's Village."

"We were only there a year." I don't want to recount my daily worries about the descent into terror that faced the district after my daughter won the Games. "Then the Capitol bombed Twelve, and Prim and I escaped with the others to the woods."

"That must have been scary."

"It was." But I was so busy taking care of those who fled that the impact of the moment was set aside.

Thank goodness for work. It's a reliable way to forget my pain.

"After a few days, some scouts from Thirteen found us and we were taken by hovercraft to their underground facility. I soon met up with Katniss."

"Did you experience any depression living underground?"

"The medical staff in Thirteen understood that those coming from Twelve would be traumatized from the bombing and find life underground difficult. They put medicine in our food to keep our moods even. And because of my skills in Twelve, I was allowed to work in the hospital there; they even took on Prim as an apprentice.

"You must understand that no one in Thirteen is allowed to sit around and do nothing. Every single person must earn their keep."

"I've heard that about the place," Elizabeth says. "Were you happy to have your family re-united?"

I snort. "We were hardly a family anymore. Even though Katniss lived with us, she was barely there. She had endless meetings and then as her role as The Mockingjay evolved, she was making propos. We saw her on television more than in real life.

"She was regularly sent into dangerous situations and I had no idea she'd even left Thirteen."

That was the last straw in my opinion. How the higher ups in Thirteen didn't respect my authority as a parent. At least in Twelve no one was telling us when to eat and go to sleep.

"Your girls were growing up," Elizabeth points out. "They were breaking away, forming their own identity."

"Forming their own identity." I spit out the words. "Prim would be alive today if President Coin hadn't overrode my refusal to send my thirteen-year-old into a war zone."

Elizabeth's face grows pale and her eyes widen. "Is that why Katniss shot the new president?"

My eyes roam the room frantically looking for obvious bugs. Is this conversation being recorded? I remind myself that the war is over. Katniss has already received her judgment.

"As far as I'm aware, Katniss doesn't know any of the details about how her sister ended up being sent to the front lines – I certainly never talked to her about it. It would only upset her.

"False news of Katniss' death was what motivated Prim to request a slot in that medic unit going to the Capitol. She wanted to honor her sister."

A conversation I had with Peeta in a Capitol hospital comes to mind. I didn't believe him, I thought it was a hallucination he'd had as a result of the burn medication he'd been given, or maybe he'd simply made the story up to make me feel better.

He insisted that he and Katniss and Prim were all in the same section of the City Center when the bombs went off. That the last face Prim saw was that of her sister running toward her.

A shiver had gone down my back at his words. I desperately wanted to believe it. To know that Prim wasn't alone when she died. That she was looking into the eyes of her sister who'd she thought was dead. But it seemed too fanciful, too perfect.

Life doesn't work like that. Not my life.

The room has grown silent. Maybe for a few minutes even.

Embarrassed, I look to Elizabeth.

"Are you in contact with Katniss now?"

I shake my head. "They wouldn't let me see her before I left; she was still under lock and key. I wrote her a letter and left it with Haymitch Abernathy before I came here. In it, I asked her to phone me. I've called the house a few times since she returned. But she never picks up."

Elizabeth's voice is gentle. "Do you think that might be the reason your current depressive episode continues despite the medication? Because you haven't been able to reconcile with Katniss?"

I don't know if it's possible to ever reconcile. She's been angry with me ever since Glenn died for something I couldn't stop from happening. It wouldn't surprise me if she holds me accountable for Prim's death as well.

"It would be nice to have someone…." I leave the last words unspoken – to love. Even though I try to pretend otherwise, Annie isn't family to me. We only met last year.

But I remember Katniss from the moment I pushed her out of my body, held her greedy mouth to my breast, watched her take her first steps. She was such a sweet, happy little girl. Wearing a red plaid dress that I'd made by cutting up an old skirt, she danced all the way to school on the very first day.

"Someday, I'll be as smart as you and Daddy," she told me before she stepped inside the classroom. Her words had brought a smile to my lips.

Glenn will get a kick out of that comment.

"Lily? You're drifting off. I asked: Would reconciling with Katniss help you feel better?"

"It would be a start." My eyes fall to my lap and my hand traces over the embroidered flowers that decorate the edge of my skirt.

I can't remember what I say to Elizabeth next. She asks questions about my time in the Capitol after the war ended. But all my time was spent working hospital shifts, sitting at the bedside of both Katniss and Peeta, and then attending a mass burial of children killed in the bombing. Prim is interred with those innocents, who like her, were at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Elizabeth says she wants to see me again, same time next week, but I have no reason to go back because there is nothing else to tell her. I float out of her office, like a wild creature untethered.

I have no idea where I'm going, what is to happen next. It's disorienting, but I am beyond frightened, if anything I'm reckless wanting to do something, anything to rid myself of this new reality.

Things will never get better. Everything I touch turns to slag.

Striding down the boardwalk, I head for stairs that lead down to the beach. Glenn taught me to swim a long time ago, although I haven't done it in years. I will swim as far as I can beyond the breakers. When I am tired, I will lie on my back and rest and see where the waves take me.

It will be so peaceful to sink down beneath those waves.

But I don't even make it to the stairs when out of nowhere Dr. Baile appears in front of me, sack lunch in his hand.

"You look like a woman on a mission."

I want to shout, Get out of my way. I'm going to drown myself. But he stands firmly in front of me, blocking my path.

"Where are you off to?"

I study his friendly face. Has this man ever experienced a moment of pain? A doctor living in this picturesque place? Four was one of The Capitol's lapdogs.

My eyes fly toward the beach on my right. The sounds of the waves lap soothingly in my ears. It draws me in, calling to me.

"I was going to walk along the shore," I lie.

His turns his head and glances at the water. "That sounds like a plan. Do you mind if I join you?"

My eyes open wide in disbelief.

Is he serious?

Before I can even answer him, he turns and loops his arm through mine. "Shall we?"

Stunned, I allow him to lead me to the stairs. I reach for the handrail with one hand to steady myself, while we make our way down the stairs, which are a bit rickety.

"District maintenance needs to do some upkeep on these soon," he says. "But I guess it's not a priority with all the other things they need to repair since the war ended."

Four is in far better shape than most districts. The hospital I came here to help start up isn't even a new facility. It was in operation before the war serving Capitol citizens who traveled to Four to seek medical treatment and recovery in this scenic setting. It was shut down during the war as the rebels took over the building to use it as the district's military headquarters.

As soon as we reach the sand, the doctor releases his arm from mine, kicks off his shoes, and tosses his sack down. He bends down and pulls off his socks.

I kick off my sandals. The sensation of the sand through my toes is profound.

Why have I not thought to do this before? I must bring Annie to the shore.

I follow the doctor, who has already gone ahead toward the water.

I catch up with him and stand at the shoreline, letting the warm water wash over my feet and ankles.

Dr. Baile steps back and rolls up his pants' legs to just beneath his knees. His skin has a golden tan, the same as most of the others who reside in this district.

An audible sigh escapes from his lips. "I've missed this."

I want him to leave. I have other plans. Still I can't help but be curious.

"Were the beaches off limit during the war? I was living in Thirteen and they didn't tell us much of anything."

A puzzled looks comes over him. "Even though your daughter was the Mockingjay?"

"Nobody told me anything," I snap, causing him to look at me in surprise. "I don't think Katniss knew much either. She did what they told her to do."

"Yes, we did what we were told to do, too." His voice has a bitter ring to it.

"There wasn't any fighting here along the coast, but most people stayed off the beaches as a precaution. We had curfews and food rationing and all the other prohibitions that occur to the general public in wartime. I'm just grateful it was over soon. My grandfather told me about living through the Dark Days."

"I heard those stories growing up as well."

He begins to walk along the shore, his feet still in the water. I follow, not knowing why exactly, but the sensation of my feet sinking into the soft sand is exquisite. Healing almost.

We walk in silence for about a quarter of a mile. Suddenly he stops and turns toward me. "So what do you think of Four?"

"It's beautiful. So different from Twelve."

"Do you miss your home? Will you return after the hospital is fully functioning?"

"I can hardly think past today. It's been hard."

A concerned look comes over him. "I understand. You lost your younger daughter in the Capitol, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"How old was she?"

"Prim was thirteen."

Just becoming a woman.

"My son was twenty," the doctor said. "Such a headstrong boy. I don't know how he would have fit into this new world with all its changes."

My mouth falls open. "I'm sorry."

Surely Dr. Baile knows every sensational detail of my life, the same as the rest of Panem. It might be rude to ask about his son, but I'm beyond caring about manners.

"Was your boy a casualty of the war, as well?"

"Yes," he mutters.

I wonder if he blames Katniss, blames me. So many people do. I have overheard angry comments when no one knows I am listening. "If it weren't for that damned Mockingjay, so many people would still be alive, the country wouldn't be in ruins…"

Just one more heaping of guilt to add to the despair I already feel. I'm about ready to apologize to him when he speaks his mind.

"We should have done something before about the conditions in Panem."

"I don't understand."

"Us, our generation. We were complicit in keeping that evil system in power. We forced our children to pay the price."

Glenn tried but he was killed for it.

"There was always an undercurrent of rebellion in Twelve. My late husband was killed…" My voice trails off as I consider that even after all these years I've never spoke of Glenn using that term – my late husband.

"Then your husband was a brave man, far braver than me," he says, before turning abruptly and striding down the beach.

I follow at a distance. What a strange conversation.

An enormous rock stands in front of us. Stairs are carved into it.

Dr. Baile stops in front of them and turns to me. "You must see the view from up top. It's spectacular."

He steps aside and motions me ahead of him. After the soft sand, the stone feels hard on my feet but I climb the steps, which zig-zag around the side of the rock to find myself on the top which is flat.

We are at least twenty feet above the ground. The wind gusts at my hair, whipping it around my face.

The waves roll rhythmically toward the beach. However, when they hit the rock they dash hard against it and a spray arises, covering us with a fine mist.

"It's exhilarating to come up here when a storm is rising," the doctor says. "The sky turns dark and the wind picks up and the waves get even bigger. Some may find it frightening, but I'm always awed and strangely comforted by the enormous power behind it. It seems so purposeful."

"Do you come here often?"

He catches my eyes. "I haven't been up here in ages."

I wonder why he decided to return today, with me of all people.

We watch for several minutes in silence, until I put my arms around my chest to warm myself as the wind chills me.

"We're not dressed properly for this; we should go." He points in the direction of the stairs and I hold firmly to the rail as I make my way down.

The air is warmer when we reach the sand.

"Thank you for showing me that, Dr. Baile."

The idea of taking a swim from which I'll never return has fled from my mind, the same as the waves that start out large, but dissolve into foam when they finally reach the shore.

A shy smile comes over him. "None of this Dr. Baile stuff. Call me Dee. I thought you'd like it."

"I did, Dee."

But a nervous prickling sensation goes down my neck. I rack my mind trying to think of some way to refuse his attention in a way that is firm, yet not rude. I do have to work with the man. But before I can say a word, he speaks.

"I hear that you're taking care of Finnick's wife. That's very kind of you."

"I met Annie in Thirteen, and she was alone when Finnick died."

He frowns. "The Cresta family was an early casualty of the fighting, as were the Odairs. The families of the victors were targeted, you know."

I think of the Mellarks. Peeta's entire family was wiped out in the bombing of Twelve. Prim was killed in the Capitol.

A nervous giggle escapes me and I clamp my hand over my mouth as I realize that I may be the only close family member of a victor left alive.

"Finnick was a cousin of mine, a distant one, but a relative still. I appreciate your kindness to his wife. I should have done something…"

I study his face trying to find Finnick's languid sensuousness in his features, but it isn't there. He is his own man.

"She's expecting Finnick's child."

His eyes grow soft. "I didn't know."

"Annie stays inside mostly. I don't think many people know about the baby yet. She's just showing."

As I listen to myself talk, I'm grateful that my impulsive plan was interrupted.

What was I thinking to abandon Annie? That poor girl has lost enough people in her life. And what would my death do to Katniss?

A wave sweeps in past us and turns into foam. When it has retreated three pure white shells lie with their backs up and their sides spread apart in the sand.

The doctor catches sight of them and gasps. "I can't believe it."

He bends over and scoops up all three, a wistful look on his face. He's one of the best doctor's in Four, but he appears as vulnerable as a child as he holds them out to me in the hollow of his hands.

"These are called angel wings. Note the detail. It's rare to find them intact like this because they are so delicate." He points out what appears to be filigreed lacework that nature has carved into the top of the shells.

"It's said they carry a message from those we loved. Take one for yourself and give one to Annie."

I take two from him; he takes a cloth from his back pocket and wraps the third shell carefully placing it in his breast pocket close to his heart.

We walk back to the stairs, put on our shoes, and climb up.

We stroll down the boardwalk in a comfortable silence. Before we part, the doctor in the direction of the hospital and me toward Victor's Village, he speaks. "Thanks for coming with me. We must do this again."

He gives me a warm smile. I think about our conversation as I walk home.

Annie's eyes light up when I give her the shell. "It's a sign," she says. "Finnick is all right." Her mood changes.

I study the shell that is mine. It is beautiful and fragile and supposedly uncommon. But I'm not sure what to think. Has Prim sent me a shell to ease my spirit? I am envious of the doctor's and Annie's faith.

I don't see him the next week. I wonder if he's avoiding me, until I hear a nurse mention that his daughter got married.

Perhaps her marriage was the reason for his introspective sharing.

Annie feels her child quicken. It overwhelms her and consequently I get little sleep as I spend a lot of time comforting her. Eventually, I join her in bed, the same as I used to do with Prim on bad nights, to calm her. It's the only way either of us can get adequate rest.

I wake up early on the morning of my next weekly visit to Elizabeth and decide to forgo my appointment. I'm feeling better, perhaps the medicine has finally begun to work, or maybe it was my walk on the beach with the doctor.

But then Katniss calls. "Mama, how are you?" She bursts into tears.

At the sound of my daughter's voice my heart beats faster. We both sob loudly. I regain my composure first. I ask about her health. Is she eating? Is she getting enough rest?

Katniss tells me that Sae comes daily to cook for her. She left the house yesterday in an attempt to hunt, but couldn't make it much farther past the fence before having to turn back.

"Buttercup appeared when I got home. Prim would have a fit to see the condition he's in after walking all the way back from Thirteen."

Oh, Prim. I take in a sharp intake of air to avoid crying. I am ready to crumple.

"I've been cleaning him up this morning."

Katniss never liked that cat, but I know she will take good care of him because he belonged to her sister.

"Do you see Haymitch much?"

"No, but Peeta returned yesterday."

She mentions his name in passing and I grow tense. I spent enough time with Peeta in the Capitol hospital to see that he had changed from that broken young man in Thirteen. Still, he almost killed my daughter once.

Nervously, I ask, "How is he?"

"He looks good. Thinner, but healthy. He dug out some primrose bushes from the woods to plant along the side of our house."

That doesn't sound like the actions of a deranged assassin.

I remember Glenn digging out plants from the woods for me.

The doctors in Thirteen were doubtful about his case, but perhaps Peeta has recovered. Prim was convinced that he would.

"I visited him in the Capitol hospital," I tell Katniss. "He was burned in the bombing of the City Circle like you."

Katniss lets out a sudden whimper, and blurts out. "Mama, I saw Prim in the City Circle that day, and she saw me. I was going toward her when the bomb exploded."

I gasp. Peeta was telling the truth.

My baby didn't die alone.

Suddenly I remember the seashell. Was Prim trying to reassure me?

But at Katniss' revelation, it strikes me that while Prim may have died happy knowing her sister was alive, Katniss witnessed a sight no one should ever see.

And she was already broken before she left for the Capitol. No wonder she snapped completely and shot Coin.

I'm surprised that scene wasn't brought up at the trial. Surely someone should have made the connection. But then no one talked to Katniss or Peeta. Katniss was locked up, Peeta was being treated for his mental condition, and Prim was dead.

Instead they made my daughter sound like a hopeless, shell-shocked lunatic, instead of a grief-stricken sister.

No one cares for the facts in the Capitol. They only favor the story that makes their ears itch with excitement, even if there is not an iota of truth in it.

We talk for a while before Katniss says goodbye with a promise to call again. She says Peeta has arrived with warm bread and Sae has come to cook her breakfast.

I sit by the phone afterward, mentally replaying our conversation. I'm confidant Katniss will survive.

So can you.

I suddenly change my mind about seeing Elizabeth today. I will pay her one final visit and tell her that my daughter has reached out to me.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

My hands are folded calmly in my lap. "Katniss called me this morning."

Elizabeth smiles. "How does that make you feel?"

My eyes unexpectedly fill with tears. I blink and raise a hand to wipe at my face. "She seems all right. She's not alone. People are helping her."

"I'm sure that relieves you greatly. But how are you feeling?"

"As if I'm seeing a light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. We talked about Prim. It helped… a lot."

"I know you worry about Katniss, that you grieve for Prim. It's normal. You're their mother. But it's all right for you to have a life too, Lily."

"I don't know what I want."

"Well, you said you didn't want to be in Twelve, so you came here. That's a start. I'd recommend giving yourself some time."

We talk a little longer and then I tell Elizabeth that I won't be coming back. "The medicine is working now."

She nods as if she expected the news. She gets up from behind her desk and takes my hands, squeezing them.

"Take care for yourself, Lily."

I leave her office and head for the boardwalk. The weather is perfect, warm with a light breeze. Perhaps Dee has returned and is eating lunch in his usual spot.

THE END