"You played? Really?" There'd been a hint of something in his face for a second there, the slimmest glimpse of who he might have been before the world went to hell and ruined everything. Maizie focused on that instead of wondering over the raw expression he'd worn after drinking the water.
"I bet you were good at it. And it means you know what I need," she said. "Honestly, I'd be grateful for anything you could find. If it's songs, just bring whatever you like and that will do for me."
And in the meantime she could gather up a few more supplies for him, things that would actually be useful. Just in case she saw him again.
Glad that it seemed like he'd taken her message to heart, Maizie nodded back at him, the hard line of her worry softening. Even if he'd already known to be careful, she felt better for having passed on the warning. If the Capitol would approve the killing of a shelter leader, they wouldn't think twice about doing the same thing to Ezra.
Even the passing thought of the death someone else she knew -- no matter how short the acquaintance -- made Maizie's heart spasm, missing a beat. She took a deep breath, trying to settle her jangled emotions. “Good. I don't want you to get hurt."