Kit Rowe. District Twelve.
You were hot for five seconds before we learned that you write poetry. Now we don’t know what to do with you. Do you, by any chance, have a twin brother who sounds much more fun and whom we will meet at your funeral? That’s right, we know everything. Maybe if you weren’t such a bummer, Kitty, your better half wouldn’t have left you, have you considered that? Another Rowe to the table, please!










