I had known Finnick for years, and never—not once—had I heard him lose control like that.
Not like this.
I frowned, confused, my voice coming out weak. "Finnick, what's—"
"You went back in there for a necklace?" he snapped, cutting me off. His voice rose, sharp and rough, carrying a force that pressed against my chest. "Do you even realize how lucky you were? You could've died!"
The air shifted.
It wasn't just anger. It felt like something deeper, something instinctive, pushing against the surface, demanding to be heard.
I froze.
All I could hear was the fury in his voice. I couldn't see his expression clearly, not with my vision still blurred, but I didn't need to. The weight of his disapproval hit me hard enough.
I risked my life… and this is what I get?
Something inside me cracked.
