Prim didn't know the half of it. How Katniss conned Clove into killing her, a desperate attempt to either return to Panem or to forget. But it hadn't worked and instead, instead she had been left without her song. And without Peeta. Only the haunting memories of the mural on her bedroom walls, the paintings he had done.

Especially the painting he had done of her. Effie had tried to hang it up once. And she had freaked out, been so completely unable to cope with seeing it. Herself through Peeta's eyes. She knew that he had loved her. But it had been something else entirely to see it reflected in paint.

She swallowed hard, not meeting Prim's eyes or reacting to the squeezing of her hand. If she did, she might break. And she had come so far not to break. Instead, she stared straight ahead, expression grim and stony.

"It was real, Prim. What was between us? It was real."