He held a tiny shell in hand, a fragile thing on a simple piece of rope. He could remember the day he gave it to her perfectly, finding the shell on the beach and offering it thoughtlessly to her, but she had smiled so brilliantly it sent a flutter bursting in his chest.

"My name is Finnick Odair. I am 24 years old. My home is District 4. I was in the Hunger Games. The Capitol hates me. Terra was taken prisoner. She is most likely dead. Most likely is dead. She's probably better off dead," he releases a shuddery breath, voice thick and choking. "I love her. I hope she's safe. I am in District 13. I left her behind."

He trembles, clutching the shell close to his chest and wonder what could have ever possessed her family to go through her things before they escaped just because they believed her to be some kind of hero.

Terra had always been worth more than anyone ever gave her credit for. They didn't deserve whatever right they thought they had to her life.

"Finnick, are you going to come out anytime soon?" There was a bang at his door, the loud thumping of metal making his jump. Haymitch lacked tack more than ever now that he was sober.

"Go back and get her," he pleads, insistent, and he can hear Haymitch sigh.

"We don't even know where she is or if she's alive," his old friend speaks through the door and he squeezes his eyes shut. "But if we can get any sign that she is, I promise I will lead the charge to get Terra back. You aren't the only one that misses her."

Finnick winces, and curls in on himself, facing away from the door on his bed.

If she was going to be stuck in the Capitol then she was better off dead.