The feast, was something Annie, and many others had never experienced before. They congregated in the center square where tables upon tables were heaped with roasted meats and candied pies. Fizzy drinks flowed freely, and children ran around with died blue and purple lips. Annie had never heard so many giggles and laughter in this square before.

There had been a feast shortly after Finnick won his games, but Annie didn't remember the celebration ever being like this.

"It's been nearly a generation since we had a victor who didn't come from the career center," the mayor explained.

Annie eyed Finnick, who sat with Mags at the other end of the table. Annie and the mayor were prominently centered at the head, so as to better be seen by the crowd, and the capitol cameras that were noncelantly filming.

"Finnick was a career, wasn't he…" It wasn't a question, Annie remembered that fact now, though it seemed strange. There was an unsettling vulnerability about Finnick for someone who had won so young, and been trained from an even younger age to be a tribute. She knew so little about him.

Annie would have preferred to sit with Myrna and the others, but the capital had made the seating arraignments very clear.

When the crowd's appetite began to diminish, the mayor introduced a host of district 4 performers for the capitol's pleasure. Annie watched as a school of young girls immerged throughout the crowd, their hair braided with yellow and white flowers, who all took part in the mermaid dance—a local dance that told the story of how a young mermaid had left her life on the sea to be with the man she loved, but he was a mortal and could only walk on land. Annie had seen it performed only once before, but that was by older girls, and the choreography of the dance was modified slightly for children. After that, a group of young men came out and performed a net dance, where they staged complicated maneuvers with nets. Leaping to avoid being snared all while casting their own out to capture others. Annie had never seen this performance before, and she clapped enthusiastically when it ended.

"Well now," the mayor announced when dusk fell fully on the square of crowded people. "It has been a celebratory day and night, but all good things come to an end. Let us raise our glasses," everyone in the crowd did as they were told, "to the capital for their magnanimous generosity in providing this feast, and allowing us to take the time to sit and enjoy the performances of our heritage and culture that we otherwise would not be able to do."

The crowd applauded, but there was a hint of bitterness to it.

"I bid you all a good night," he continued. "Now our senior victors will take Annie Cresta, our newest champion, to the victor's village to show her the new home that the capital has provided for her."

Annie could see that Mags and Finnick were waiting for her, but as the crowd dispersed she couldn't help but search the dozens of faces for Myrna. They had had so little time earlier. There was so much that Annie hadn't the opportunity to say.

"Annie!" She heard Myrna call out.

Annie scanned the crowd, a wave of relief rolled off her. Myrna embraced her. "Do you really have to go?"

Annie could feel Finnick hovering behind her, impatient, she imagined, to get home. She turned her head enough to give him a sympathetic look. He all but glowered back at her. "I have to go with them," she apologized, hugging her friend again, and holding her tighter this time. "I promise I'll come to visit you at the orphanage tomorrow, all right?"

Myrna kissed her on the cheek, then hurried away as one of the ward sisters called out for her.

Finnick reached out for her elbow. "This way." His tone was strained.

"I'm sorry, I just had to say goodbye."

She saw his mouth curve up into a lopsided smile. "I understand. I'm sorry too."

Annie beamed up at him.

"The way to the 'V Ave' is pretty easy once you learn it," he told her,

""V Ave?'"

Finnick chuckled. "It' what Mags and I call it—short for Victors Avenue."

"Is that its real name?"

He shook his head. "No, it's just an inside joke, I guess. Here, cut through the square and past the mayors mansion." They passed the large house which was lined with palm trees that were twice as tall as any building. They swayed lightly in the evening breeze; their noise was a gentle swishing sound. "Then take this path." He gestured toward a small path off the paved road, and suddenly they were walking on sand, through the knee high green grass that grew closest to the shore. Annie could hear the waves crashing against the shore somewhere in the darkness beyond her. There was barely enough light to see by, and Finnick tightened his hold on her elbow. Annie held out her hand for Mags to guide her and the older woman took it.

"Just there," Finnick went on, pointing into the waxing darkness, "are the docks. Do you hear the creaking?"

Annie could hear wood grinding and groaning.

"Those are the boats." Finnick's voice took on an excited tone. "The waves are crashing them together. My boats done there."

Annie was genuinely surprised. Every boat in the harbor belonged to the capital. "You have a boat?"

She could feel Finnick clam up, and he changed the subject quickly. "Anywhere, there it is."

As they crested the last hillock the row of amber colored streetlamps came into view. They lighted along both sides of the paved street, giving way to a raised walkway and finally two rows of houses. It was too dark to be sure, but she was fairly certain that she counted six houses on each side, for a total of twelve in all.

It was eerily quiet. "It's just been the two of you here?"

The houses felt haunted to Annie. Lopsided and unlived in. Huge shells without any life to color their edges.

"That one's mine." Finnick pointed to the center most house on one side of the street. It toward over them in semi darkness. Then Finnick pointed to the house directly across the street. "That one's Mags."

Mags took her hand, and in the rich shadowy light she could see the older woman smile sympathetically at her.

"You can take whichever one you want."

Annie raised an eyebrow and bit her lip. What Finnick had just said was as strange as someone telling her that she could rename the ocean or never wake up before noon ever again. "Um—well…that one, I guess." She pointed to the house that stood beside Mags.

"Good choice," Finnick told her. "Let's get you settled."

Finnick and Mags walked her to the door. Reaching into his pocket Finnick fished out a hook of keys and unlocked the door. "They gave me all the skeleton keys," he explained. "All the other doors are locked—it's a capitol thing." He said mockingly, handing her the key that he had used to open the door. "Yours now."

Annie smiled as Finnick and Mags entered before her. Hers. So little had ever been truly, completely hers.

Mags flipped a switch on the wall and the hallway and adjoining room burst with bright light. Annie had all but gotten used to electricity in the capital, but before that it was a rare luxury. The orphanage only had rations for full light once or twice a week and that was in the winter only.

Looking around, Annie could see pale blue couches and lamps with silver shades. There were paintings and mirrors on the walls, and her shoes felt polished hardwood under her feet.

"Everything should be here, dishes in the cabinets, and there should be food in the pantry if you're still hungry. We can arrange for your things to be brought over from the orphanage later, if you'd like."

"I don't have very much," Annie confessed.

She ran her hand along the smooth wooden banister. It was creamy white, so rich that Annie was surprised the color hadn't stained her hand when she pulled it away.

"Do you think you'll need anything else?" Finnick asked her.

Annie was embarrassed that they had to waste so much of their time to help her, but she was terrified. The fact that this entirely large and empty house was hers was preposterous.

"Um… I don't think so." She lied.

Mags and Finnick both smiled at her. Their faces showed disbelief, but also relief that they could go home.

"Alright," Finnick sighed. "Remember I'm just across the street, and Mags is right next door." Finnick stole a quick glance at the floor before meeting her eyes. "We know how strange this can all be."

Annie met his stare. "I'll be fine."

Finnick chuckled, but only slightly.

When she was alone, Annie practiced turning the light switch on and off. It was full dark now and with the lights on she could see her own reflection in the polished glass windows. She peaked through the peephole in the front door and ran her hands along the walls.

The couch was too soft and when she sat upon it she felt like she would melt clear through the mountainous cushions. In the kitchen she removed a green ceramic bowl from one of the cabinets and laid it with a slight clattering clang on the counter before she put it back.

Annie had to work up the courage to walk up the stairs. It felt like it took hours and after each step she had to stop to listen for strange sounds. As alone as she felt, she was terrified that someone might be lurking in the dark shadows of the cavernous hallways. She turned every light switch that she passed on until the whole house was bathed in rich light. There were four bedrooms on the second floor, three small and one large, with a simple bathroom at the end. The large bedroom, which she presumed to be hers, had a bed big enough to fit four people with plenty more room. The bedspread was white and grey with tan pillows and silk sheets. Sitting on the bed, Annie gave a little hop, then another. She felt a hysterical giggle erupting and clamped her hand over her mouth.

The walls, by contrast, were barren, devoid of pictures or paintings, which Annie thought was odd, considering the rest of the house was filled with them. When she opened the dresser drawers she found them empty, and when she checked the closet she realized it was sparse as well. With just a few blankets folded neatly on the top shelf, and a red raincoat hanging on a wooden hanger.

She felt drained, remembering both the events of the day, and her previous night without sleep, but she felt too strange and alone in this big house. Moving to the window she slid it upward and felt the cool breeze off the water brush up against her cheeks. She could hear the ocean, but through the darkness she couldn't make it out in the distance.

Annie took deep breath after deep breath, tasting the air that was so familiar to her, and drinking her home back into herself like a fine wine she intended to get drunk on. There was no moon above her, and she was grateful; she was afraid that moons would forever remind her of the arena and those last final chilling moments with Ril. Laying her face on her curved arm against the window sill she tried not to cry, but even through her determination she felt the tears coming. She missed the dark halls of the orphanage, and the soft snoring sounds that Myrna made while sleeping in the tiny bed across from hers.

She knew that she should get changed. Remove the dress she'd been wearing for what really was days now, and find something to sleep in. But each time she tried to get up, a creeping fear in the back of her mind stopped her.

This wasn't right. None of this was right. The nightmare of the arena had ended only for her to find herself in this strange realm of disbelief.

When she heard a scraping sound Annie jumped, startled out of the jumble of her thoughts. Poking her head out the window she noticed a light from Mags backyard flicker on, and the older woman emerged from a sliding door. As Annie watched, Mags walked through the large expanse behind their houses, wrapping a heavy shawl around her shoulders to ward off the chill as she walked. Annie watched her as long a she could, but after a certain point she could no longer make out the other woman.

Annie didn't stop to think, she pulled on the red raincoat from the closet, that, although big, fit comfortably on her, and she followed her mentor out into the darkness.