I'm not sure I should be watching this - I've done enough damage here already - but I can't make myself stop. As frightened as I am about what might happen if I watch, my curiosity has gotten the better of me.
Tonight Peeta's going to question Annie about my disappearance. Along with all the rest of my teachers, she was questioned six years ago when it happened...but that was before I appeared in her classroom. Before she had a breakdown and fled Panem.
Finnick insisted on getting Patrick out of the house during the questioning, just to be safe. I can tell he's not happy that she agreed to talk to Peeta. All he's been doing since he found out is trying to talk her out of it. He doesn't want her to lose herself again, and he definitely doesn't want Patrick to be around to see it happen.
I've been sitting here for awhile now, idly listening to Finnick and Annie doing everything they apparently need to do to get a four-year-old ready for an overnight trip to Grandma and Grandpa's house. "How many pairs of underwear did you pack for him?" Annie demands, rifling through a small duffle bag sitting on Patrick's bed.
"Um, one?" Finnick says in confusion as he and his son play with legos in the corner of the room. "He'll be back tomorrow."
"One?" she asks, looking up in surprise. "No, no, no. If you only pack one, he'll end up having accidents all over Mom and Dad's house." Annie shakes her head as she walks to the dresser and adds three more pairs.
"Mommy, come play with us," Patrick whines.
"In a few minutes," Annie replies absently as she searches through a pile of stuffed animals on the floor near the bed. "Where's his green monkey?" she mumbles quietly.
"Mommy, I want you to play with us right now!" Patrick yells. He knocks over the lego tower he and Finnick were building and runs to the bed, grabbing the duffle bag and emptying it onto the floor.
"Patrick!" Finnick exclaims, jumping to his feet. I can hear the patter of footsteps running down the hallway, followed by a door slamming shut. Finnick starts to follow him, but Annie stops him with a hand on his arm.
"Don't bother. He'll be out in a few minutes when he realizes we're not giving him any attention." She sighs and bends down to the floor, beginning to re-pack the overnight bag.
Finnick leans against the wall, running a hand through his hair. He looks down at his wife where she's kneeling and refolding Patrick's clothes for tomorrow. "Annie, you don't have to do this, you know."
"Yes, I do," she responds immediately, never looking up.
"No, you don't," Finnick counters emphatically, crouching down next to Annie. "Peeta will still be able to work on the case, even if you - "
Annie shakes her head vehemently. "I'm not doing this for Peeta," she says, looking him in the eyes. "I'm doing this for Prim."
"You've got to stop feeling like you owe something to a dead girl, Annie," Finnick interjects angrily. "You need to stay well for your family. It's not just you this time; now you have Patrick, too. You don't want him to see you like..."
Annie's head snaps up abruptly. "Like what?" she challenges.
Finnick closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "You know what happened six years ago," he finally says quietly. He sighs and stands, pulling Annie with him.
"I can take care of myself, Finnick. I'm better now."
"I know," he agrees, drawing her into his chest and wrapping his arms around her. He presses a kiss onto the top of her head and murmurs, "I just worry sometimes."
I nod my head in understanding. I'm worried too, of course - that's why I'm here watching right now.
From the time I've spent watching Peeta - which seems to happen more and more often these days - I know that Finnick has talked to him about taking it easy on Annie during the questioning. I don't think Annie knows that, and I'm not sure how she'd feel about it if she did, but I guess Finnick's just trying to do whatever he can to protect her. Peeta, of course, readily agreed to keep the questioning as short as possible.
As my attention drifts back to the Odair's house, I notice that everyone has moved downstairs. Finnick is helping Patrick put on his winter hat and coat, and the re-packed duffle bag sits ready by the front door. It must be almost time for Peeta to arrive.
As Finnick shrugs into his own coat, I hear him giving instructions to Annie. "You don't have to answer any questions if you don't want to, you know that, right?"
She crosses her arms over her chest and nods. "I know." From her slightly exasperated tone, I assume that Finnick's been over this with her several times already.
"And you can ask Peeta to end the questioning any time, alright? If you feel like you don't want to do it, then don't," he says, giving her a pleading look.
"I know," she repeats. Annie walks to the front door and crouches down, giving Patrick one last kiss. "Have fun with Grandma and Grandpa, okay? And be a good boy for Daddy," she finishes sternly.
Patrick wraps his little arms around her neck and squeezes. "I will, Mommy." Annie stands, lifting Patrick along with her.
Finnick walks towards the front door to grab the duffle bag and give Annie a quick kiss on the cheek. "Promise me you'll remember what I said?" he asks her.
She smiles reassuringly. "I will, I promise. And Finn...I know I can do this. I just - I need to talk to him about Prim. Peeta's going to help find her."
As I look down on them from my perch by the lake, a sad smile plays across my lips. I wish I could thank Annie somehow for not giving up on me, for being willing to delve into her old memories even knowing how risky it might be. But I have to content myself with just passively watching over her...and praying that everything goes well tonight.
I see Peeta's car drive up and park on the street in front of the Odair house. Finnick must notice it as well, because he looks out the window and gives a quick wave to Peeta before turning back to his wife.
"You're sure you want to do this?" he asks. Annie just sighs in annoyance. "Fine, fine," he relents, taking Patrick from her arms.
With his free hand, Finnick reaches for the door and opens it just as Peeta's about to ring the doorbell, ushering him inside. "Come on in, Peeta. We're just heading out." He leans towards Annie and gives her a peck on the lips before heading to the door. "Call me when you finish," he says to Annie as he leaves.
After closing the front door, Annie greets Peeta with a quick hug and leads him into the cluttered but comfortable living room. Peeta clears his throat nervously as he walks behind her. "I'm sorry we have to talk about...all this," he apologizes.
She turns to him and gestures for him to sit on the couch. "Don't be; it's fine," she assures Peeta as she takes a seat in a nearby armchair.
I peer closely at Annie, trying to gauge for any signs of nervousness. She really seems fine; she doesn't appear tense or worried in the slightest. If anything, Peeta's the one who looks unsettled as he perches on the edge of the couch and rifles quickly through my case file, dropping several pages on the floor in the process.
"Sorry about that," he says as he reaches to the floor to grab the papers he dropped. "Just...trying to find...the notes from your last questioning," he mumbles as he continues shuffling through the papers. Annie smiles patiently and after a few moments, Peeta locates what he was looking for. "Here they are!" he says, holding up the pages triumphantly.
Annie folds her hands in her lap and looks at him expectantly. "So...where do we start?" she asks, raising her eyebrows.
Peeta starts to relax just a bit, maybe from seeing how at ease Annie appears to be. He leans against the back of the couch and reaches into his bag for his recorder. "Do you mind if I turn this on?" he asks, leaning forward to place it in front of him on the coffee table.
"That's fine."
"Great. Makes things easier for me," he chuckles nervously. He presses a button on the recorder. "It's on now." Peeta glances down at the notes in front of him, furrowing his brow as he reviews them quickly. "Let's just start at the beginning, okay? Can you tell me how long you knew Primrose, and what your relationship with her was?"
Annie shifts slightly in her seat. "I've known Prim most of her life. Since she was a baby, really. I grew up on Seam Street, did you know that already?" Peeta shakes his head and jots in his notebook. "Yeah, my parents still live near the Everdeens. I used to babysit for them when I was younger."
"What about closer to the time when Primrose disappeared? You worked at the middle school?"
"I did," Annie confirms. "I taught English there...I'd been teaching for about two years, I think, before Prim, uh," she trails off, biting her lip and looking away uncertainly. "Disappeared," she finishes with a sigh.
Peeta nods as he continues taking notes and periodically referring to my case file. "And you taught Primrose in her, um, last year?" he asks awkwardly.
Annie nods. "She was in my eighth grade English class."
I know that Peeta hasn't exactly asked her any difficult questions so far - neither of them have even broached the topic of my appearance to Annie at the school or her subsequent breakdown - but I'm relieved to see that Annie seems to be handling everything so well. Aside from her hands twisting nervously in her lap, she's acting remarkably normal.
Peeta takes a moment to look at Annie, almost as if he's doing the same thing as me: trying to make sure that she's really okay. He peers closely at her and asks, "Doing alright so far?"
She nods quickly and gives him a reassuring smile, which he gratefully returns.
From where I sit by the lake, my agitation is mounting despite Annie's seemingly calm demeanor. Peeta's just now starting to talk about Annie's life as a teacher; how can either of them be sure that she's ready to discuss what happened at the school? I bite my fingernails nervously as I scoot closer to get a better view.
"How often did you interact with Prim at school?" Peeta asks.
"I was only her teacher when she was in eighth grade," Annie explains. "I didn't know too much about Prim's school life outside of my English class."
"Okay, um," Peeta begins, jotting a note to himself, "did you know anything about her friends at school?"
Annie shakes her head. "Not really," she responds apologetically. "She didn't seem to be close friends with anyone in my class. But she was friendly towards everyone," she adds.
Peeta nods slowly, picking up my file and reading silently through several pages. After a few minutes, he sets the papers aside and leans back in his seat. A conflicted look passes over his face briefly before he shakes his head, almost imperceptibly, and turns back to Annie. "Is there anything else - anything at all - that you want to tell me about Primrose?"
My eyes narrow in confusion. He's not going to ask her about what happened at the school?
Annie lets out a long sigh and purses her lips, staring off into the distance thoughtfully. Abruptly, she turns back to Peeta and blurts, "I think Prim's dead. I think she died really soon after she went missing."
Peeta gives her a puzzled look. "Why do you think that?" he asks her.
For the longest time, Annie doesn't speak or move. I don't really know how much time passes, but it's long enough that I start to get seriously alarmed before I see her shake her head, as if she's trying to clear unwanted thoughts out of her mind. She doesn't give Peeta a direct answer, though; she just shrugs and tells him softly, "I just...have a feeling Prim's not around anymore."
"Do you suspect someone of taking her? Was there anyone who might've wanted to hurt her?" Peeta asks.
"No, absolutely not," Annie responds vehemently. "Everyone loved Prim. No one who knew her would've wanted to hurt her." Her voice breaks slightly over these words. It's the first crack in her shell that I've noticed all day.
Peeta nods absently and gives Annie a tight, sad smile. He reaches to the coffee table and turns off the tape recorder. "I don't have anything else, Annie. Do you want me to call Finnick and tell him we're done?"
"No, I'll call him in a few minutes," she replies.
Peeta gathers his papers and returns everything to the manila folder containing my file. He stands, slipping his coat back on and slinging his satchel over his shoulder. "Then I'll be heading out. Thanks for letting me stop by," he tells her sincerely.
Annie stands and walks Peeta to the front door. "It really wasn't so bad," she assures him.
He turns to face Annie and reaches for her hand, giving it a brief, light squeeze. "I'm glad to hear it," he tells her. They exchange goodbyes as Annie opens the front door, Peeta slipping out to head back to his car.
As I watch Peeta drive away, I decide to stay with Annie for a few more minutes, at least until Finnick gets back home. Even though there's nothing I can really do for her, I just feel that I shouldn't leave her alone right now.
I have to admit though, the fact that Peeta didn't even ask Annie about the school incident is a huge weight off my mind. I didn't expect this at all; I just assumed he'd ask her. The only thing I can imagine is that he's trying to protect her, that he doesn't want to risk triggering another breakdown like what happened six years ago.
I knew my instincts about Peeta were right: he's such a good person. He's different from so many of the cynical cops I've seen come through here in the past. I wish I could make my sister see that.
But tonight's about Annie, so I bring my wandering mind back to the present to check on her. She's made her way into the kitchen, and I watch her sink heavily into one of chairs surrounding their small table. Part of me wonders why she didn't mention anything to Peeta about the time I appeared to her in her classroom. Peeta gave her an opening, but she didn't take it. Was she trying to guard against being dismissed as crazy? Or was she trying to protect herself from the memories of the incident?
I suppose it doesn't matter either way; talking about it isn't going to help Peeta solve my case.
For several minutes, I watch Annie as she stares blankly off into the distance, breathing deeply, palms flat on the table. I grow increasingly worried as the seconds tick past - maybe Peeta and I both read her wrong tonight, maybe she's not handling things as well as she's letting on. But what can I do from here?
Annie blinks rapidly, and I see her gaze shift slightly to the right. I follow it and see what she's looking at: the refrigerator, which is covered in pictures that Patrick drew. As she looks at it, a small smile skirts her lips and her face noticeably softens. She lets out a deep breath and I hear a tiny, almost disbelieving-sounding laugh escape her lips. It's almost as if she can't believe she made it through the questioning in one piece.
But she did, and it makes me feel so much better to see her returning to herself. Things might just be okay after all.
"Do either of you girls want more of the lamb stew?" Effie asks, gesturing towards the generously-filled serving dish in the center of her dining table.
Johanna's not one for manners - she's told me numerous times that she doesn't see the point given that we're all dead and we're not trying to impress anyone. So I'm not surprised to see her unceremoniously push her plate towards the serving dish, indicating to Effie that she's ready for more. I can't help but giggle when I see Effie purse her lips in annoyance.
Once she's served another portion to Johanna, she raises her eyebrows in my direction. I shake my head. "No thanks, Effie," I tell her. "I'm saving room for some of the crème brûlée you promised us for dessert." I rub my hands together gleefully. Growing up poor like I did meant that there were lots of foods that I never got to try when I was alive - crème brûlée being one of them - but now that I'm here, I can't get enough.
Tonight Jo and I were invited to Effie's rowhouse for dinner. I don't know how she finds time to do it - she's probably escorted hundreds of new arrivals over the years - but Effie makes an effort to catch up with all of us periodically, even after we've moved into our own homes. In fact, Effie's got a new girl living here right now, but she's not joining us tonight. "Not up for visitors yet," Effie explained.
Effie stares at Johanna in thinly-veiled horror as she watches her shovel stew into her mouth. After a few moments, Effie forces herself to turn towards me and asks, "What were you telling us earlier, Primrose? About the young man investigating the, um, unfortunate incident that brought you here?"
"Oh, right!" I exclaim, feeling myself perk up. "Well, you know the police haven't been doing much for the past few years." Effie nods sympathetically. "So, the new guy - Peeta - he's actually investigating it again. Not just going through the motions like most of the others."
"She's also hoping the new guy helps her sister finally get laid," Jo adds helpfully, between bites of her food.
My eyes widen in disbelief and my mouth drops open. "Jo!" I exclaim. "That's not - "
Johanna rolls her eyes at me. "You're so pure," she scoffs. "It's exactly what your sister needs, even if you don't realize it."
"I just...I can't..." I sputter helplessly. I don't have any idea how to respond to her. Of course that's not what I'm thinking about!
Thankfully, Effie decides to intervene and steer our conversation back in the right direction. She briefly glares at Jo before turning back to me. "It's lovely to hear that someone's trying to make progress. Has this Peeta found anything yet?"
"Um, not really," I admit. Johanna's eyes meet mine briefly, and I give her a pleading look. I know she's thinking about what she heard when we spied on the station - that the police might not be doing everything they can for my case - but I don't want to discuss it with Effie. Mostly because I still have no idea what's going on.
For once, Jo's able to keep her mouth shut, and I'm able to continue speaking before Effie can ask me any questions. "Peeta's just been talking to people," I explain. "You both remember Annie Cresta?" They nod in response; both of them are aware of what happened between Annie and me at the school. In fact, Jo and I were still living here with Effie when that unpleasantness occurred. "Peeta had to talk to her, and I was so nervous about it. But she made it through okay."
"How do you know that, Primrose? Were you watching?" Effie asks sharply.
"Uh...yes."
"You have to be careful about that," she warns me as she gets up to pace around the dining room. "You know that anyone you contacted in the past is susceptible to having it happen again. I know what happened with Annie was an accident, but you don't want it to recur."
I bite my lip, nodding as I look down at the napkin in my lap. I know she's right - one of the first things she told us after we arrived here was not to try to contact people back on Earth. It's risky and it's nearly impossible to control. No one here even knows how or why it happens, or what kind of connection you have to have with the person to make a successful contact. They just tell us not to even try, so that nothing happens like...well, what happened with Annie.
"I, um..." I start, tapping my fingers nervously on the table. "It happened with Peeta, too," I confess quietly. "Not the exact same thing, but..."
Effie abruptly stops pacing and turns to me. Even Jo raises her head and looks at me with surprise. I sink down in my chair guiltily.
"Is he alright?" Effie asks with concern.
I nod quickly. "He's totally fine," I assure them. "I don't understand it, but he hasn't seemed affected by it at all."
Effie walks around the table to sit in the chair next to me, placing her hand on my shoulder. "Primrose, I know you understand this, but remember: the effects of a contact aren't always immediate, and we aren't always able to perceive them." She pauses for a moment and sighs. "That's why I tell you girls to be careful."
"Effie, drop it," Jo interjects. "She knows. She didn't do it on purpose."
I stay silent. I don't have any reason to doubt what Effie's saying, but...I don't know what I'm supposed to do exactly. How can I sit up here, watching my mom and Katniss slowly wither away, without even trying to help them? It just doesn't seem right.
But at the same time, I don't want to hurt anyone like I did Annie, either. Even unintentionally.
The rest of our meal with Effie proceeds uneventfully. Jo and I make a point of steering clear of any controversial topics and let Effie lead the conversation. She tells us about the new girl staying with her, and we promise to stop by to meet her sometime soon. Once Effie bids us goodbye, we step out into the cool evening air to walk home.
Johanna and I walk in silence until we reach the edge of the neighborhood, where the woods begin. We leave the sidewalk and the sound of our footsteps becomes muffled into the dirt of the path that leads to the meadow.
"Don't let her make you feel guilty, Prim," Johanna tells me suddenly.
"What?" I say, surprised.
"Everyone does it," she continues. "We all try to reach people back on Earth. Even though they tell us not to."
"Oh," I respond thoughtfully. She doesn't add anything more, but a question enters my mind as we continue on the trail to the meadow. I shouldn't ask, but my curiosity gets the better of me. "Um...do you?"
"I used to."
I hesitate. "But not anymore?"
"Nope," she replies flatly.
It's pretty clear that she doesn't want to keep talking about it, but I find myself feeling a little bolder than usual tonight. I guess the worst that can happen is that she tells me to shut up, right?
"Who did you try to talk to?"
It's dark, so I can't see her reaction to my question. I can hear her sigh, though, so I'm surprised that she actually answers me.
"My sisters," Johanna says shortly. As if anticipating my next question, she adds quickly, "I only did it in the beginning, right after I died. And it never worked, so I stopped trying."
I can't help but continue. "Why?" I press her.
"There was no point," she says, shrugging dismissively. The path narrows and Jo moves ahead of me. She keeps talking, but all I can see is her back. "My death...wasn't like yours. They have my body, and they think they know what happened."
"And what was it?" I ask timidly, almost afraid to hear her answer.
Johanna stops abruptly in the middle of the path and quickly looks back at me. I skid to a stop to avoid hitting her. She shakes her head and continues walking forward; I assume her reaction means we're done with the conversation.
So I'm caught off-guard when she speaks up a moment later: "They think I killed myself."
I feel a lump forming in my throat and I swallow to force it down. "Did you?"
"No," she answers forcefully.
We emerge from the woods into the meadow. I look up at the impossibly starry sky overhead. I get the sense that Johanna's told me everything she's going to say for today, but I can't resist trying just one more time. "So, what - " I barely get the words out before Jo stops me with an emphatic shake of her head.
"Sorry, I don't want to keep talking about it," she explains. I nod in understanding.
As we approach my cabin, she finally adds, "I just mentioned it because I don't want you to feel bad about trying to reach Katniss. The people who make 'the rules,'" she says, sarcastically air-quoting the last part, "assume that our families will move on eventually. They're not thinking of people like you, Prim. People whose families have no fucking clue what happened to them."
I open the front door and Johanna follows me inside, as she does most evenings. I turn to her wearily, "I know you're right, Jo. I just don't want to mess anything up."
"You've got to trust your instincts." she tells me.
"But what if I hurt someone, like Peeta or Annie, while I'm trying to help my family?" I say helplessly, dropping onto the sofa in the living room.
Jo flops down next to me. She takes a deep breath and it looks like she's considering how to best respond. Eventually she plunges ahead. "If it were me, I'd do whatever it took to help my family, even if someone else got hurt."
I lean back and stare up at the ceiling. I'm just not sure I feel the same.
I might as well admit it - despite Effie's warnings, I've still been keeping tabs on Annie.
I've been trying to do it as discreetly as possible, though. Keeping my distance from the edge of the lake, being really quiet…I have no idea if any of this will help, and I'm just making guesses about what might minimize my impact. I understand that it's still risky.
Since Annie was questioned by Peeta, though, I've felt compelled to check in on her now and then to make sure she's really doing okay. I can't shake the feeling that something's wrong, even though I don't know what. Honestly, Annie's been acting fine over the past few days, but I feel unsettled. Like a storm's coming.
But nothing I'm seeing right now suggests anything out of the ordinary. It's early afternoon, and Annie and Patrick are home alone while Finnick's at work. I got here just in time to see a relatively quiet moment in Annie's day - she's just put Patrick down for a nap, and she's curled up in her living room, reading a book.
I smile as I see her eyes starting to droop closed. Spending her days chasing around such a…um…spirited child like Patrick probably leaves her constantly exhausted. I wonder if she's ever considered going back to her old job as a teacher? It might be easier than dealing with her son all day, every day.
She fights to stay awake, closing her book and setting it aside before stretching her arms over her head. For a few minutes, she just stares off into the distance. Or at least, that's what I think at first. Then I realize she's actually looking at something: the large mirror that hangs in the entryway of her house. It's just visible from her seat in the living room.
I can't tell why she's staring at it, though…or why she has such a strange look on her face while she's doing it.
Without thinking, I scoot closer to the edge of the lake, trying to figure out what Annie's looking at. I get on my hands and knees, narrowing my eyes as I peer into the water. But I don't see anything, or at least, I don't see whatever it is she sees.
I reach forward and drag my hand over the surface of the water, although I have no idea what I'm trying to accomplish by doing that. When the waves settle down and the image becomes clear again, I see that Annie's standing. And walking slowly towards the mirror with an unreadable expression on her face.
She stops directly in front of the mirror and stares, as if she's expecting to see something there. Her hand raises and she lightly drags it over the surface of the glass. She looks like she's waiting.
I peer closely into the mirror. I see Annie's placid face.
I let out a short gasp as I notice what else I see: the clear reflection of my own face.
It's almost as if I'm standing right beside Annie, except that I know I'm not. My eyes are riveted to the mirror - I can't tear them away - but my hands reach for the ground beneath me, to remind me where I am. I grab handfuls of grass. I'm still at the lake.
But I'm also in Annie's house, standing behind her, my face reflected over her right shoulder. Our eyes meet.
Annie smiles.
I freeze. I have no idea what to do, how to get away without causing a scene.
I can't stop thinking that Effie was right. I didn't listen. And now...
I decide to move. It's the only thing I can possibly think of to break the connection. I start to back slowly away from the lake, but something happens. Annie's snapped out of her trance and a look of horror covers her face. I don't think she even realized what she was seeing before.
But she does now. She gasps and whips her head around to try to find me, but I'm not there. This time I'm not in the room with her, but I'm still visible in the mirror when she turns back to it. Her eyes dart back and forth, not understanding. She turns around again and still finds nothing.
And all this time, I'm still there in the mirror. Nothing I do can pull me out. I feel physically rooted to the spot where I'm sitting; I can't move.
Annie rubs her hands roughly over her face, covering her eyes, but she can still see me. Finally, in frustration, she reaches for the wall and rips the mirror down, dropping and shattering it on the floor.
At the sound of the crash, something shifts; the connection is broken. I'm at the lake now, completely, no part of me is there with her. Still, I scramble backwards, away from the shore, breathing heavily.
I collapse onto my back and stare at the clouds above me. I can't stop shaking. What just happened?
What did I do?
I lie there for a few moments, chest heaving, silently berating myself for ignoring Effie. But the damage is done. The question is: how bad is it this time?
With only a second of hesitation, I return to the edge of the lake to see if Annie's okay. The broken mirror frame and shattered pieces of glass are littered around the entryway, but Annie's not there. I can hear her eerily calm voice coming from the living room. I follow the sound and see her perched on the sofa, clutching her cell phone to her ear. Even though I can only hear her side of the conversation, it seems obvious that she's talking to Finnick.
"Can you come home?"
She pauses and squeezes her eyes shut, shaking her head violently in response to whatever Finnick is saying. "No, right now," she murmurs.
There's another brief silence as she listens to her husband. A look of impatience crosses her face before she speaks up again. "I can't explain, just…please."
The contrast between her quiet, mild voice and her frenzied appearance is stark. Thankfully, it appears that she didn't get hurt when the mirror broke - or if she did, I can't see it - but her face looks absolutely distraught. Her free hand is absently yanking clumps of hair out of her formerly neat ponytail, while she rocks back and forth in her seat.
Annie hangs up the phone and immediately drops it to the ground. She slides off the sofa onto her hands and knees and crawls to the nearest corner. When she gets there, she squeezes her eyes shut and covers her ears with both hands. She becomes frighteningly motionless.
I quickly check on Patrick, and I'm so grateful to find that he's managed to sleep through all this. With any luck, he can stay asleep and not see what state his mother's in right now.
Less than five minutes after Annie made her phone call, I see Finnick pull into the driveway. He looks mildly alarmed, but not overly so, probably due to Annie's calm demeanor when they spoke. That changes the second he walks in the front door and hears the sound of broken glass crunching under his shoes. His eyes widen in fear.
"Annie!" he bellows frantically, looking side to side for any trace of her. Thankfully he quickly spots her huddled in the corner. He runs to her side and crouches in front of her, reaching gently for her wrists. "Annie," he whispers, "what happened?" She resists his touch, struggling against him to keep her hands on her ears, refusing to open her eyes.
Finnick spies some of Patrick's toys on the carpet near his feet, and this triggers a new wave of fear in him. He leaps to his feet, shouting, "Patrick?" as he runs through the house trying to find his son.
"The bedroom, the bedroom," I chant silently as tears run down my face. "Please don't leave Annie alone."
When Finnick finally throws open the door to Patrick's room, and sees him lying in bed rubbing his eyes blearily, he lets out a sigh of relief. He sits down on the bed and smoothes the hair off of Patrick's forehead. "Hey, little guy. I need you to stay right here in your room for Daddy, okay? You're going to visit Grandma this afternoon, alright?"
Patrick doesn't seem fully awake yet - I'm not even sure he registered what Finnick just said - but Finnick leaves the room quickly to run back to Annie. She hasn't moved an inch from the defensive posture she'd taken before.
Finnick sits on the floor next to her and fumbles in his pocket for his phone. I hear him call an ambulance, then Annie's mom, his eyes never leaving his wife for a second. When he's finished making his calls, he pulls Annie into his lap and rocks her. She never says a word or acknowledges him in any way.
I think I'm going to be sick.
I can't watch anymore - I should never have watched in the first place. I can't stop thinking that I could have prevented this if I'd just listened to Effie. If I'd not let myself complacently believe that everything was fine.
Tears continue streaming down my cheeks as I run back to my cabin, periodically swiping my hands over my face so I can see where I'm going. I slam the front door shut and lock it, leaning against it heavily as I allow myself to sob.
As I sink to my knees on the floor, I make myself promise to leave Annie alone from now on. For real this time.
A/N: Thanks for your continued support for this story, and please keep telling us what you think through your reviews and messages. We really appreciate it!
Huge thanks, as always, to sunfishdunes, our beta extraordinaire, and jennagill and desertginger, our super-vigilant pre-readers. We couldn't do this without you!
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I know that this chapter probably doesn't answer all of your questions about Annie's fate, but stay tuned for Chapter 11 for more. It's another Peeta chapter, and it picks up where Chapter 9 left off.