"You have to wash your hair." She repeats those words, with flat incredulity. Come on, Kate--even in Panem, that's the oldest line in the book. "I don't see why. Your hair looks great."

But she's not going to act all needy, or draw this out too much. If Kate wants to run away, whatever. Fine. Typical. She shouldn't have started it if she didn't want to finish it. Johanna crosses her arms over her chest, her hip cocked off to the side as she watches Kate walk away.

"Oh, I get it. Excuses," she sighs, when Kate is nearly at the door. "I should have expected that. Need any help?"