Your door was open so I thought I'd join the party. [ Cashmere's already sour expression darkens. at least now she's mad about something other than the hotel from hell. Johanna's from home, even if she is one of Cashmere's least favorite people to have ever graced the Capitol. which is saying a lot. her hands go to her hips, and she decides to stay in the doorway, well out of reach of Johanna's swinging distance - and hopefully throwing distance. ]

Sorry to shatter your pathetic little drug-induced fantasy. [ how else could anyone explain this frightening thin, bruised, bald woman? ] I'm alive and well. Have you looked in a mirror lately? You're the one who looks dead.