“And there are countless blogs and parody Twitter accounts and articles. Some scholarly. So?”

“So a lot of those people would be willing to take a quick trip to the dark side if it meant they didn’t have to wait any longer.”

“They wouldn’t do that.” Bob sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

Derrick couldn’t help smiling. “You don’t think so? They’re so desperate, so invested in you as the maker of Swords and Shadows, that they’re even willing to buy anything you’ve touched.”

“What do you mean?” Bob rubbed his stubbly cheeks with one hand.

“They just want to be close to you. And if they can’t read the book, maybe the next best thing would be to sleep in your sheets. Wear your old socks.”

The old man’s mouth fell open. “You’re going to sell my personal belongings?”

Pride spread a smile over Derrick’s face. “We already have. For the past three months.”

“My old socks?” Bob made a face. “What’s to stop you from just saying they’re mine?”

“I created a certificate of authenticity, complete with an official-looking seal. Plus each piece comes with a picture of you using the item in question.”

“Wait—you said my sheets. Joanne’s been taking pictures of me sleeping?” Stepping off the treadmill desk, he sat heavily on the bed.

Derrick shrugged. “It’s not hard. She said you sleep a lot.”

“Is that where my favorite argyle socks went? And that little statue of a gryphon that used to be on my desk?”

Derrick let his silence answer.

“No wonder I couldn’t find my Blazers cap the other day. I was like, I know I put it down here. Where can a hat go?”

Derrick smiled. “It sold for north of six thousand.”

Bob’s mouth fell open. “Six thousand dollars for a hat?”

“You know what would really go for a lot?” Derrick reached out to finger the scarf. “This is iconic. It’s how everyone recognizes you.”

Bob jerked away. He had paled, but also set his jaw. “The only way you’re taking it off me is if I’m dead.”

Derrick shrugged. “Okay, so not the scarf.” In his head, he put an asterisk after the sentence, and then the word yet. “As for the book, we’re going to sell it chapter by chapter. At a hundred bucks a pop.”

“For a single chapter?” Bob scoffed. “That’s more than three times what the entire book will cost when it comes out. Why would anyone pay that?”

“Because no one believes the whole book’s ever going to appear. It’s years overdue. They’ll figure it’s better to get some chapters now, even if they’re expensive, than to get zero chapters forever.”

“But that’s a lot of money for a few pages.”