Annie.
I hold two-year-old Finn in my arms. I didn't want to leave him at home—what if something happened to him? I can't bear to lose another loved one, not after Finnick— I gulp. Don't think about that, Annie. Be strong. You can do it. Oh, how I wish it was that easy to be strong!
You have to be strong, Annie, my conscience tells me, for Finn. I look at Finn.
He's a mini-Finnick. His hair is the exact shade of bronze as his father's. And underneath those closed eyelids are gentle eyes the color of the sea. One day he'll grow up to be strong and handsome, just like his father is—was. Finnick… Finnick… why did he have to go? Finnick… I shut my eyes. Be strong, Annie.
The train shakes, waking up my son. "Mommy…" Finn says softly.
"Don't worry, Finn, it's okay. Everything's okay," I reply. Finn nods and goes back to sleep. The train to Kurain village is unusually rocky. I think it's the terrain. According to Plutarch, this village we're going to is located in the mountains. I guess he's right.
The passenger sitting beside me looks at us wistfully. I smile to myself. People often give us those looks. Right now, I'll bet she's wishing for a son this handsome. I stroke my son's bronze hair proudly. He's so much like Finnick…
Finnick. I miss him so much it hurts. Why did he have to go, right when he was about to be a father? If he hadn't gone off to war, he would be experiencing all the good things I'm experiencing right now, like being Finn's parent. But, Annie, he did it so you and Finn would live in a better world, I tell myself.
But still. I'd rather live in a world with the Hunger Games and with Finnick, than a world without the Hunger Games and with no Finnick. Annie, you mustn't think like that! He died to give you and Finn a better life, with no Games, with no evil Capitol.
My conscience is right. I must not think like that. I shut my eyes. Bad, Annie.
The train comes to a halt. Huh. We're probably here already. Finn's eyelids flutter open. "Are we here?" he asks. I nod. "You look sad, Mommy. What's wrong?" I shake my head. But something is wrong. Finnick's gone. And that's just plain wrong. Finn stares at me, begging me to tell the truth.
"Nothing's wrong, Finn. Nothing will be, as long as you're here," I say. Well, at least a part of it is true. As long as Finn's here, I won't be crushed like a bug by Finnick's… er, passing. Finn stands up and gives me a hug. I hug him back. "Come on, Finn, it's time to go." I scoop him up, and exit the train.
A woman in a strange dress greets us. "Hello," she says. "Are you Annie Odair?" I nod. "And who's this?" she asks, pointing at Finn.
I try to come up with an explanation as to why he's here. I could say, I couldn't leave him at home, something might happen to him. Or, Finn begged me to let him come with him, which is sort of true. But instead, I just say, "This is my son, Finn Odair."
"I see. My daughter, the medium who will perform the channeling, is in the manor. Please follow me," she says. We follow her inside. She leads us into a large room she calls the 'Meditation Room'. The woman tells us to wait, and leaves. Then she comes back, this time with a girl who looks to be about fifteen.
"I'm Maddy," the girl says.