“That won’t be necessary. Thanks for your time.”

I take one last look at the wall with the headshots, accepting that this agency won’t ever turn me into a star.

Not even after everything goes dark for me, like an empty night sky.

Scarlett Prince

5:00 a.m. (Mountain Standard Time)

Scarlett Prince is finally being let off the airplane.

There are still investigations to be held, but the police force wants the plane emptied so they can conduct their searches as they sweep for bombs or weapons, and escort the pilot somewhere safe. Which means Scarlett will be released back into the airport without her luggage but she will have improved phone service. Over a dozen text messages that have been written to Valentino over the past few hours will immediately be sent to Orion’s phone. That one-sided conversation with her brother didn’t settle her nerves. She couldn’t stop reliving the fear she last felt when she was upside down in her car moments after the accident, terrified that she would die alone. She’s dreading this to be true for Valentino.

Once Scarlett is off the plane, she fights all urges to break down.

Time is of the essence, and that time must be spent with her brother.

Valentino

8:00 a.m.

Dreams don’t come true on End Days.

Everything upstairs could have gone differently if I had an agent who believed in Death-Cast in the first place. Calls could have been made to move heaven and earth to help me fulfill my life’s dream. All I got was someone who won’t even mourn me because she believes we’ll see each other in a few days. I’d love for her to be right, but I know she isn’t.

I don’t look back when we exit the building. I don’t even know where I’m going. I just walk down the sidewalk wanting as much distance as possible from this place.

“Slow down,” Orion says.

I don’t.

I keep going.

“Wait for me!”

His voice sounds further back. Not as strong. I turn, and Orion is leaning against the wall, eyes closed with his hand pressed over his heart. I snap out of my misery and return to his side.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just . . .” Orion takes a deep breath, then another and another. “Blood pressure running high and then speed-walking was a bad combo.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. Mostly not. I’m pissed at what went down upstairs.”

“That was definitely disappointing.”

“And completely fucking infuriating.”

There’s an empty bus stop bench a few feet away, but Orion slides down the wall and sits in a crouch. I join him even though my legs are sore from yesterday morning’s run and workout and my two fun trips up my six flights of steps. I don’t say anything as he catches his breath and fights his inner storm.