The room was dim, illuminated only by the faint light of a single lantern flickering on a small table. Katniss stood in the doorway, her gaze softening as she looked at you, a fourteen-year-old girl lying on a narrow bed. Your sister was curled up on the bed, looking at you sadly.

Katniss walked over and sat gently on the edge of your bed. Her face, though stern, showed a glimmer of empathy and understanding.

"You know," She began softly, "I understand that this has been incredibly hard for you. Losing your parents, dealing with everything that's happened… it’s more than anyone should have to bear."

You turned your head away, burying your face in the pillow, the weight of grief and anger making you reluctant to engage.

"I know you’re hurting." Katniss continued, her voice gentle but firm. "But your sister needs you right now. She looks up to you, and she's scared. She needs someone to take care of them, even if it’s just a little bit."

She reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"It’s not fair, I know. But you have the strength in you. I’ve seen it. You survived through so much already. Maybe… just maybe, helping her can be a way to find a little bit of healing for yourself too."