IV

Another year passed. The night before the Reaping, Finnick had dinner with us.

This had become a weekly ritual since that first night. Even though he seemed to have a lot of friends, Finnick was a little bit of a loner, too. Maybe the stigma of being an orphan preyed on him. Strange that I don't know. He didn't really have any living family. I think there was an aunt or something across the district, but no one claimed him.

Except old Mags.

When I was a small child, all I knew about Mags was that she lived in the Victor's Village because she had won her Games. Also, I knew she was a legend at knot-tying. Over time, especially after Shad and Finnick had become friends, I came to know a few more things about Mags: 1) she had kind eyes, 2) she could swim the length of our beach four times over, 3) she once had a husband but no children, and 4) she loved Finnick so unconditionally she would do anything for him.

After we ate, the three of us headed out to the dunes as usual. The boys tried to avoid talking about the Reaping, but some evil made me ask if they were afraid.

I remember Shad put his hand on my shoulder. 'Don't worry, Annie,' he had said. 'That's the good thing about there being lots of us in this district: chances go down.'

Beside him, Finnick nodded with a winning smile. 'He's right, look at me. Two years in already and no draw.'

But somehow, I knew. I knew it would be one of them this year. The repulsively perky voice of the district escort clanged and echoed in my head that awful day. His was the voice of my Dread; I can still hear him. I shut my eyes tight, my hands reaching up to cover my ears. I didn't want to know, because if I didn't know, it wouldn't be true. It couldn't.

Mother tried to get me to stop, but I wouldn't, even when she smacked me on the back of the head. I let her lead me home like that, eyes closed, ears blocked. I didn't know who had been Reaped, until Shad came home a few moments later. I could have died with relief that it wasn't him. But his face was somber and I was afraid; the Reaped male tribute must have been one of his friends. And the Dread rose within me again.

Because I knew.

He was gone, before any of us could say goodbye