She apologized to him. And quietly, he knew, that meant that whatever she found out had nothing to do with Peeta. She wouldn't have owed him an apology if she had found that Peeta died or didn't recover. From that tone of her voice, this was something personal. She had found out something that related to him, his district, his family --
Annie? he almost asked, because that was always his first instinct. A coldness set in the pit of his stomach. But she wouldn't be this upset if she found out something had happened to Annie, would she? She barely knew Annie. Most of what she knew was how much Finnick cared for her, what a mess he had made of their lives, and how intolerable he found to be without her.
It was unlikely, but it did nothing to quell the fear that had crystallized in him. Did he want to know? Did he want to know whatever she had found out if there was nothing he could to change it? Could he live with himself if he found that something worse happened to Annie and he was still stuck here, unable to see her, unable to save her? The same went, he knew, to a lesser extent, to his family and his district. He didn't know what was left of either of them after what he had done in the Quell.
He shut his eyes, though he noticed that she was practically leaned into his chest by now.