President Snow rises and dabs his puffy lips with a napkin. “Aim higher in case you fall short.” “What do you mean? How can I aim higher?” I ask. “Convince me,” he says. He drops the napkin and retrieves his book. I don’t watch him as he heads for the door, so I flinch when he whispers in my ear. “By the way, I know about the kiss." Then the door clicks shut behind him.