We're in the attic, just the two of us. It's raining outside and the soft pattering creates a dull lullaby. Peeta is downstairs, painting with our son. Occasional bursts of laughter would fly up the stairs and find their way to us.
I breathe in the musty air and lean against the wall as I watch my daughter rummage through a chest. Wonder fills her eyes when she discovers something new.
She glances back at me, a smile lighting up her face. "Mommy, look what I found." I raise my eyebrows as she runs over to where I'm sitting and proudly displays the fabric she's holding tight in her chubby toddler hands. I choke as I recognize what she holds. It's Prim's blouse from the Reaping.
In a swift motion, I move to a kneeling position and gently take it from her grasp. I can't stop my hands from shaking as I run my hands over the white material. It's been so long. "Why don't you try it on, sweetie." I manage to make out.
She laughs in delight and tugs the white blouse over her head. "Do you like it?", she asks, twirling around and performing a clumsy dance. She tilts her head expectantly and looks at me.
"Beautiful," I rasped, crinkling my eyes as a small smile forms on my lips. "You look beautiful." I repeat and this time tears threaten to spill out. Her blue eyes meet mine, filled with glee. "You know, you remind me of Prim." I blurt out before I can stop myself. My daughter stops admiring the blouse on her and focuses her attention back on me. "Who was Prim?", my daughter questions. I hesitate for a moment, my hands reaching out to caress hers. "She-she was my little sister. I was very fond of her." I couldn't go on.
As if sensing my emotions, she climbs onto my legs and wraps her arms around me. I embrace her back, closing my eyes and letting a tear trickle down my cheek.
"Let's tuck that tail in, little duck." I whisper.
As the last word left my lips, I could've sworn I heard Prim say "quack".