121 SEVENTH HEARTBREAK

"Well, isn't this just splendid," Caspia remarks, breaking him from his thoughts. She wanders further into the room and sprawls out on a plush, cream-colored couch embroidered with patterns of coral, seashells, and waves. She kicks up her feet on a coffee table in the room's center, upsetting a tin of pale cookies.

"Homey," Finnick agrees, though he's somewhat surprised at Caspia's sudden inclination to speech. The train ride had been several hours long, and the only time she and Finnick had conversed was when she asked Finnick to pass the jam at their communal meal in the dining car. Abalone had been even more taciturn, muttering under his breath and spurning any attempt at even the most perfunctory dialogue.