Freya's POV
As I returned to Whiteclaw territory across the border, night had fallen. The air was heavy with old scars and memories. However, I was different this time. The girl who had been rejected wasn't me. I was more powerful and prepared to show Finnick who I was. I inhaled deeply and walked on, the silence surrounding me intensifying with each step.
The main house, where Finnick frequently spent his evenings, finally came into view. Somewhere inside, he was there, utterly oblivious to my return and my approach to retrieve him. I clenched my hands and took a step forward, my heart racing as I tried to picture his expression.
I was standing in front of the entryway before I realized it. He was sitting by the fire, by himself, gazing into the flames when I grabbed for the door and pushed it open. His expression of astonishment at seeing me when he looked up was just what I had envisioned.
As though I were a ghost haunting him, he murmured, "Freya."
