The doors slide open and I quickly step out, looking for the nearest staircase. Emmitt trails after me slowly, his careful eyes taking in our surroundings. It doesn’t look that different from any other subway stop, but I don’t say that. As long as he’s following me, he can stare at the empty station as much as he wants.

“Don’t fall too behind,” I say, climbing up the first set of stairs. He blinks as if my words startled him, but falls in line behind me.

When we get to the escalator, I lean against the railing and watch Emmitt idly for a moment, considering the arrogant tilt of his jaw and his observant eyes. He didn’t say much for the duration of the subway ride, and I’m grateful.

I’m not eager to make small talk with a celebrity. I doubt we have anything in common, aside from our interest in the film industry—although his seems like less of an interest and more of a passing fancy. It’s so unfair that he’s the one with a career being handed to him on a silver platter of nepotism, while I have to struggle to win a single film competition.

But maybe it’s not my place to judge. It’s not as if I really know anything about him except for what he chooses to show me.

I grimace at the thought and turn away, looking forward as the top of the escalator comes in sight. Across from us is the ferry terminal, bold lettering on top of the building proclaiming it the STATEN ISLAND FERRY.

I glance at my phone, checking the time, but then my eyes bulge. 4:26 p.m. We’re going to miss the 4:30 ferry.

Without thinking about it, I grab Emmitt’s arm and start pulling him up the escalator. “Hurry! We’re going to miss the ferry.”

Emmitt stumbles behind me. “What?”

“Hurry,” I say, tugging more insistently.

After a beat, Emmitt follows, matching me for pace as I start tumbling up the stairs and then rushing across the street toward the terminal. “Mina, can’t we—”

“Don’t call me Mina,” I hiss, momentarily distracted. There’s a crowd between us and the terminal, and with each passing moment comes the certainty we’re going to have to board the next ferry.

I finally slump in defeat, letting go of his arm. Even if we make it in time, there’s way too many people waiting ahead of us. I should’ve figured as much with rush hour approaching.

At my side, Emmitt’s eyes are narrowed. “Is Mina not your name?”

I fold my arms across my chest. “No.”

He purses his lips, the disbelief written plain across his face. “That’s what Rosie calls you.”