Six months after leaving the Capitol and three weeks after I left District 8, since I'd finished my designing and dressmaking course, I was camping in the District 7 meadow. I climbed the nearest and tallest tree and looked out over Johanna's home district. I wondered if she could see me, but then remembered it didn't matter. I leaned back against the tree and began singing again. "A hand above the water—an angel reaching for the sky. Is it raining in heaven? Do you want us to cry? And everywhere the broken-hearted on every lonely avenue—no one could reach them—no one but you. One by one, only the good die young. They're flying too close to the sun and life goes on without you. Another tricky situation—I get to drowning in the blues and I find myself thinking well, what would you do? Yes, it was such an operation forever paying every due. Hell, you made a sensation. You found a way through. One by one, only the good die young. They're only flying too close to the sun and we'll remember forever. And now the party must be over. I guess we'll never understand the sense of your leaving. Was it the way it was planned? And so we grace another table and raise our glasses one more time. There's a face at the window and I ain't never never saying goodbye, oh. One by one, only the good die young. They're only flying too close to the sun. Crying for nothing, crying for no one, no one but you."
After I finished singing, Johanna found me and said, "Stop moping, Firefly, or I'll whack you upside the head with my axe."
I nodded silently—Johanna was only super scary when she had an axe with her, especially if she was high or drunk. I joined her and she hugged me. "Still miss her?" she asked gently.
I weakly nodded and mumbled, "Yes."
Then I added, "And that's why I'm traveling."
Johanna nodded and hugged me again. Then she said, "Then may the odds be ever in your favor."
I smiled weakly and left District 7 the following day.
