The house is silent when I return, apart from the fading sound of the mayor driving away, her car tottering off into the distance. The faint smell of something cooking leads me toward the kitchen, where I see a stout woman with her dark, salt and pepper hair pulled up into a high bun. 

Shan turns, her tight mouth widening into a smile when she sees me. She opens her arms as if inviting me for a hug, and of course I oblige, burying my head in her soft shirt. 

"You've returned," she says, her voice quiet, almost as if solemn. 

It takes me a moment to answer, my throat clogged by unshed tears. "Who would've guessed?"

She laughs softly, a sound I don't think I've heard her make before. "We all believed in you, Daphne."

I choose to believe her, for my own sanity. 

I pull away from the hug somewhat reluctantly, glancing over to the stove, where something simmers in a large pot, covered by a somewhat foggy lid. "What're you making?"

"Steamed carrots." She lifts the lid and lets me peek inside, waving away the cloud of steam that is released into my face. 

"Looks delicious," I say. 

"They will be," she says, notably glancing towards the doorway. I follow her gaze.

"Are you looking for something?"

Shan looks at me, her eyebrows half-raised, as if not expecting me to speak. "No. I will assume your father will not be joining us for dinner."

My face falls, and I'm sure she notices it, because her lips curve downwards into a slight frown. 

"How is he?" I ask, because although really the man should mean nothing to me, he is my father. He raised me. He is the only person who stuck with me through the deaths of my mother and sister--and whether or not he was obligated to do that doesn't matter, because he was there. If anything, it was nice to know that there was always someone waiting for me at home, a father figure to sign my field trip forms for school and celebrate my birthday with. 

"He did not fare well with your volunteering," Shan says, but her tone offers no blame toward me, no idea that his current state is anywhere near my fault. I can't express how thankful I am for that. 

"Is he..." She knows what I am insinuating. 

"Yes, I suppose so. I have not been up there to see him in quite a while."

I look back down to the carrots. There's really not much else to be said. Shan seems like the type of person to keep a conversation only to the necessities, to hold in the harmful truths and spit out the kind ones. I admire her for that, among many other things. 

"Look, the carrots are done," Shan says, changing the subject. I follow in her footsteps, grateful for the lightened mood. 

***

After dinner, I do what I feel must be done and go up to knock on my father's door.

I didn't tell Shan about my little plan--I know she'd only dissent to it, and since this is my life I'm living, I want to keep my own opinions pure and uncontaminated. 

He doesn't answer the first time, and when I put my ear to the door, I hear nothing. But then there is a grunt, and a gruff voice: "Who's there?"

"It's Daphne," I say after a moment of hesitation. 

He doesn't respond. Really I shouldn't be surprised, but of course, my hopes were high. The chances he'd open the door immediately and hug me tight, telling me how proud he was of me, were low, but not zero. 

It's still silent in there, and I realize that maybe they were in fact zero all along. 

I take a step back, feeling stupid for my delusional wishes. 

"I'm back," I try again. 

For a long moment, there is silence. 

And then a long sigh, and the door opens to reveal my father standing on the other side, his expression wholly covered by his frown. 

"How are you... feeling?" I ask, my jaw dropping slightly. He doesn't look different, but... I really did think I'd never see him again. This moment feels surreal. 

I remember my dream, the dread and sorrow that came with it. It feels like so long ago, like I have lived a thousand lives in the time between. 

But now, here he is, here I am. Face to face, finally. 

"Fine," he says, because of course he does. Do I not get anything better? Do I not get, at the very least, a hint of a smile? Because I have just done something no one ever expected of me, won a medal so many die for. 

"I survived," I say. Obviously, but really, maybe he thinks he's hallucinating me right now. That could explain away his lack of responses, right?

But he just shakes his head, and am I imagining the slight disappearance of his frown? "No, you didn't."

I meet his gaze. His green eyes, the ones I inherited, are blurry and unfocused, as if he is looking straight through me, as if I am nothing but a phantom, the ghost of a girl who should have died. "You're drunk," I say, my voice a whisper, eyes stinging just slightly. 

There is another moment of hesitation, and I force myself to look away, but when I risk a brief glance, I find him still staring. 

His eyes burn a hole through my forehead, through the wall behind me, through the entire world. I don't know how I lived with this, how I managed myself before the Games. 

"You look just like your mother," he says, and I am quiet, still from shock. 

It is the first time he has talked about her, that I remember. It is monumental, a sentence I'm sure I'll remember forever. 

And he... he is drunk. 

"Daphne!" A shout breaks me out of my astounded stupor, and I turn just my head. Shan is standing at the top of the staircase, looking more worried than I have ever seen her. She shakes her head roughly. 

"It is time for you to go to bed," she orders, and there is nothing I can say to get myself out of this, so I follow her to the stairs. A glance over my shoulder informs me that my father is still staring. A million things are running through his head right now, I bet. A million moments he shared with my mother, a million moments that are now gone, long gone. 

I descend the stairs, and he disappears from my vision. Shan leads me back to my bedroom, puts me to bed as if I am eight, and leaves quickly, maybe to check on my father. 

I don't know. I don't think I want to know. 

It takes me a while to nod off in this new yet familiar environment, but when I do, I sleep like the dead. 

***

short chapter here! sorry about that. but it's kinda deep, and trust me, this book is abt to get even deeper. 

TW FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER! i'll post them side by side so you'll be reading that one right after this--it's short, don't worry. i just don't want to ruin the vibes by putting this at the beginning of this chapter.

and anyways, thanks for reading! love u sm <3