She didn't show up next year. Or the year after that, or the year after that. There was nor hide or hair of her, and the other Seven Victors were curiously quiet on the whole matter. The only time they talked about it was when Berry told Davy, "Just leave it. She's not coming back."

"But why? What's wrong?"

"I said to just leave it, Davy." Berry turned to leave.

"Is she dead?"

Berry stopped. "No. She's not. But seriously, just stop bugging us about this."

"Berry!" Davy was embarrassingly close to tears. "She's my friend! Why won't you tell me what's going on?"

Berry gave him a sympathetic look, but didn't budge. "I'm sorry, Davy, but it's really none of your business." Then she left.

And so Davy was left alone, worried sick and so confused. What the fuck was going on? What was with all the secrecy? Why?

Unfortunately, no one else knew what was going on, or more accurately, they didn't care about what was going on.

"I don't know, honey," Carlie said.

"Dunno. But I'm saying 'good riddance'," Gloss said. "She was fucking creepy."

"Seriously kid, please just shut up about this," Brady growled. "It's clearly none of your business, anyway."

"Why are you so upset about this?" Finnick inquired, having been out of the loop. He'd never met Sylvia, but he remembered her Games quite clearly. Why was Davy so intent on finding her?

"Because she's my friend!" Davy responded.

"Why are you even friends with her?" Harlan grumbled. "Her kind only ever brings trouble. You did watch her Games, right?"

Davy bristled.

Harlan continued on. "Why do you let yourself worry so much, boy? I don't understand what you even see in her. You need-"

"Piss off, Harlan," Davy bit back, "just because you don't have any friends doesn't mean you can insult me for having one, you sad old sack of wrinkles."

"Davy!" Carlie snapped. She was drowned out by Charisse and Dominic laughing.

"He's not wrong," they said.

Cecelia put her arm around Davy's shoulders and led him away before he could say something else he might regret. All the anger drained from his face. Now he looked as if he might burst into tears at any moment.

"Why is everyone so mean?" he whined.

"People like Sylvia just don't fit in very well," Cecelia told him gently, " she's just too different. People don't really know how to handle her." A more serious look swept over her face. She looked Davy straight in the eyes.

"I understand that you're worried, but you really should stop bugging the others about this. It won't make them care any more than they already do."

Davy sank his shoulders in defeat. "Alright, I guess."