[It had been a very long time since she had anyone else in her life so close that they might depend on her. Being a healer made her needed, yes, but not in this way. At the end of the day, a witchwoman was alone, or at least she was until she became a Knight. The thoughts wouldn't stop now, not until she had time to process them, but they also weren't the most important thing to focus on currently.

Part of her is curious to ask just what it is that this president asked him to do, but the rest is terrified to know. If fame started with death, then where did it lead? She knows that he only did what he had to in order to survive, but that doesn't stop a knot from twisting in her gut to think of how much blood is on his hands. Everything in her craves to heal those around her, after all. And while she knows that there are plenty of people out there who deserve to die, she doubts that the children who participated in this event with Finnick could be counted among them. Her hand draws back from his face, settling back in her lap.]

We've talked before about how there are things that might have been better left on the other side of the Veil. But unfortunately, we have no choice what memories are taken from us.

But this is a different world, a better world. I have to believe that.