"If we had sex, Snow would film it and blackmail us and show it to the world until my eyes bled from the sheer regret of giving in to you, sugar," Johanna says, as bitter and sharp as ever. The words feel sharp as they come out, like the more she says them, the more they cut up their tongue. "I'm not going to be an Aunt, Finnick," she says, shaking her head with disbelief at the thought that she could ever be in that kind of position.

"I won't fuck up your kid," she says, after a long pause. "How's that for a promise?"