The interruption was horribly-timed, and not being nearly so gifted as Finnick at concealing her emotions, Annie couldn't keep the pinched look from her face as she watched her mother cross the room. Loving Gaila had never been an issue for her, but they were little alike beyond looks, and from the time she had been small, Annie had never been able to shake the pervasive feeling that she was constantly a deep disappointment to her mother.

More unsettling in the moment, though, was how quickly and easily Finnick had found his facade. Annie peered soberly back at him from over his hand and wondered if this was the same one he showed his family, or if he had a variety he chose from.

"…and you tracked half the beach in here," Gaila was muttering as she clattered around in a cupboard, looking for a broom.

Annie started for the hall without a word, catching hold of Finnick's hand as she passed, sand still trailing in her wake. At the top of the stairs she went not for her bedroom but the bathroom, tugging Finnick in after her and hastily locking the door. Once inside, she sat on the edge of the bathtub and turned on the water to rinse off her feet.

"She cried the day I got home," she said, her voice soft. "She said I've always kept secrets from her, ever since I was a little girl." Leaning forward, she braced her elbows on her knees and put her head in her hands, warm water swirling around her feet.