Cato returns in the early afternoon with a tiny basket of my belongings, my music box, hair brush, its matching hand mirror and unexpectedly, a bottle of perfume.

"Who's is this?" I ask, wondering if perhaps Effie slipped it in

"It's not yours? I found it in the water closet"

"Which one?"

"The one across from my room, I assumed it had to be yours"

"No, I- that's my father's bathroom, I- I'm not allowed- I don't go in there. This must have been my mother's"

"I'm sorry Madge, I didn't know"

"Not to worry Cato. Perhaps you could return it though, he'll notice it missing"

"Why don't you keep it. What can he do?" he doesn't have to say it, I can see it in his eyes, what he's thinking 'what more can he do?' "I have some of your clothes too, mom packed them so I'm not sure what's there but if there's anything else you need just ask. Mom says she's sorry she hasn't come herself but … there's a lot to do- or undo in this case"

"Cancelling the burial plot?" I joke, only Johanna laughs

"Oh lighten up will you" she chuckles "you staying for dinner pretty boy? Maybe dinner and a show? Levy's up next" she smirks and when I look back to Cato his face is as pink as strawberry candy and he can't keep his lips from curling up. I smile so wide it makes my split lip bleed.

We get in to a routine, I sit on the porch with Annie every day until Katniss joins us one day and then never leaves. I cry for hours when she admits we were friends as very young children but she too was warned off when my mother died. I ask her why I don't remember her as I do the Mellark's but she doesn't know. I tell her I can recall her singing voice and begrudgingly, she sings with Annie humming along with her.

Prim and Rue braid flowers and long blades of grass in to my hair and sing rhymes to us but all the flowers in the world couldn't pretty up my butchered face, or hide the patches where I'm missing hair.

Rory and Vick sometimes make their way over to throw twigs at Prim and Rue. Rory will stick around just to be near Prim but Vick gets bored of 'girly stuff' and plops down in the meadow before the house with a book or a deck of cards.

Finnick comes over with snacks once or twice a day, usually a pie or some other recipe he's experimenting with. Annie teases him about his penchant for baking and they kiss for a while before he goes back to work.

Thresh, I feel I have a quiet comradery with. He nods, waves, smiles, whenever he passes and always sits with me when he takes a break to drink lemonade or eat his sandwiches. We don't say much but he always offers me half of what he has and a funny story about one of the animals or chores he's been seeing to.

Haymitch, Evelyn and Hazelle are the only ones who still treat me like something between a porcelain doll and a cornered animal. They watch me with concerned eyes like I might spring out of the wheelchair and run back to my father. Then baby me in some way by wiping my mouth or trying to feed me.

Johanna is Johanna.

Cato goes on a date with Levy. I wait up past midnight so he can tell me all about it and this time when his blush makes me grin, my lip is all but healed.

I don't see much of Thom or Gloss but for when we eat dinner every night. They've began to tease me, Finnick leading them and it's nice, to have something utterly un-serious"

Glimmer, Cashmere, Clove and Bristel don't often leave the saloon. They're friendly enough, I don't feel quite so awkward in myself anymore, and when they share saucy or embarrassing stories about their clients, I laugh. Especially at how often Glimmer tells stories about Darius.

Effie often sends word with Cato, usually how terribly sorry she is she hasn't visited me herself. I suspect it's for a number of reasons.

Gale and Posy Hawthorne avoid me at all costs.

My cuts scab over, some almost gone. The bruises linger but are less and less sensitive each day. I get the use of my fingers back, though they are weak and ache fiercely. It still hurts to do anything one might consider useful but I'm getting used to what hurts less. What upper body strength I have regained is made moot by my broken ribs and the shoulder still fragile from being dislocated.

I help peel vegetables, slowly and clumsily but I help. Honestly it's just nice to do anything.

One night, I offer to help Thom clean glasses and we sit at a table hidden at the side of the bar. The saloon is relatively quiet, there isn't much risk of any of the patrons recognising me, not like this anyway. Besides, no one's looking for a dead girl.

"So?" I begin "how've you ended up here? Working for Haymitch I mean?"

"I was in school, studying accountancy. I was eager and money hungry. I didn't mind who I stepped on to get where I wanted and one day it come back to bite me on the behind" he shrugs, accepting of it "I lost everything, my money, my name, friends. It was for the best"

"You don't miss it? Wish you would've started over?"

"I did start over. I was drinking myself silly, that's how I met Haymitch" he snickers "When he upped and moved here, he asked me to join him, said he needed a man behind the bar who really knew his liquor. That was me"

"Do you think you'll ever go back to accounting, to school?"

"Leave here? No, this is my life, I like it. Haymitch pays me a decent wage as well as keeping me and Bristel would never leave before her time"

"Bristel? You and she?"

"Yes me and she" he chuckles

"Isn't that- excuse me but isn't that … hard?"

"You would think so wouldn't you, but no. If we get married she'll stop but we're in no rush"

"And what about the others? Do they have men of their own?"

"Not really. Glimmer has taken a real liking to the Sherriff's son and Clove sneaks off to the barn most nights to see Thresh, even though we all know but that's it. Most people couldn't handle the arrangement Bristel and I have"

"What about Johanna? Annie said she'd been with Haymitch the longest?"

"Johanna will be dancing around this saloon well in to her seventies" Thom laughs "she thought Gale might've been what she was looking for but that was just awful for everyone"

"What's he like, Gale?"

"Odd" Thom tells me, I'm beginning to think all he does is chuckle, it's nice "he's my best friend. When we bought the land and set up the saloon, he and I did a lot of the handy work around the place. Got on right away"

"He seems … quiet?"

"I guess"

"He avoids me"

"He doesn't like seeing, you know …"

"What I look like"

"He hates it" my chin drops of its own accord. This is exactly what I always wanted to avoid, having it across my face, plain as day. This is the reaction I induce, repulsion.

"Should I try to talk to him? I want to thank him, for sticking up for me that first night, with Johanna"

"Yeah, maybe you should" something flits across Thom's face and he grins "he's working on the house, I'll take you over"

"Right now?"

"Yup" I barely have time to put the glass I was holding back before he's yanking my chair away from the table and out the back of the saloon. He slows to a more normal speed when I yelp after a jolt of pain shoots up my spine but still rushes across the meadow. After lifting me and the chair up the ornately carved steps at the front of the unfinished cabin, he knocks hard on the front door and runs away

"Thom wait, where are you … going?"

"God damn it Thom!" comes Gale's voice from inside "this place has windows, I can see you running across the field!" I think about leaving but literally have no way of navigating the stairs so lean forward and knock the door again "What?! Oh you?" he grits after yanking the thick wooden door open

"Ye, um yes … me. I'm sorry Thom kind of left me here"

"He did huh?" his voice is monotone, icy even

"Yes"

"Do you want me to take you back?"

"No dingus invite her in!" I don't turn but I know Thom is watching from the saloon and he's chuckling

"You want to look around?" the cabin is amazing from outside, it would be rude not to

"Sure". Having Gale push my wheelchair is horrible, I feel useless and embarrassed. A lot of that coming my way lately "so you built all this, from scratch, with your bare hands?" I ask, taking in the stone walls, hand carved wood and varnished floors

"I haven't finished it yet"

"It's lovely, homey" I add, focusing on the giant fireplace. From outside, the chimney is misleading, suggesting a fireplace just a portion of the size "this is beautiful" and it is, it'll be a perfect little home one day, all centred around this fireplace "and you carved all this?" I trail my fingers over the grains of wood that make up the stair newel, balusters and handrail. Each carved following the natural twist of the wood and spectacularly ornate "you have a rare skill, really more of a gift. I can't put it into words"

"You're one to talk" he answers gruffly

"Hmm?" he shifts awkwardly

"Don't you play piano?" piano, it seems like it was a lifetime ago, I played piano

"I did I guess" and then out of nowhere I feel an overwhelming sense of sadness, my faceless companion, who listened every night at the window. I'm stifled by the guilt I feel

"How uh- How are you?" Gale stammers, pulling me from my trail of thought

"How am I? Crippled, for now at least and feeling completely useless" he nods once

"Would you like to help out more? I know you keep badgering Haymitch about chores and odd jobs"

"I'd bail hay with Thresh if I could. What did you have in mind?"

"Nothing quite so laborious" he smiles. It's the first I've seen from him and I can't find a word to describe the effect it has on me "maybe no less tiresome though" if I knew him better I'd know whether it was nerves or boredom in his tone "what about keeping me company in here? When you have nothing else to do. Maybe reading to me?"

"Reading to you?" I find that incredibly intimate but can't explain why

"I used to like reading, just don't have time anymore. And you have a nice voice" that's a lie, my vocal chords are not yet healed and I rasp and croak every other word

"Hardly, I sound like a pipe smoker"

"Well it'll exercise your voice then, help you back to normal"

"I suppose you have a deal then"

"Great" he smiles again, and I can't believe I ever found him cold.