“Me?” Even though he’s the only person in the room. It’s something of an irritating habit he has.

Another drink and then he stares at the floor for a moment. He’s definitely not okay and he imagines Jack isn’t either. But the other guy’s managing to look fine, so Firo just can’t be honest. And he’s a Martillo capo, for Pete’s sake, he can’t admit to weakness.

He holds his arms out, the very-unheartfelt smile back on his face. “I’m in one piece, aren’t I?”

He feels like he’s about to fall apart, but the Capitol’s people seem to cobble people back together about as well as the elixir does. Did?

“I’m not the one who needs worried about.”