“No rest for the wicked,” I say, and follow him down the hallway. I trust Ethan knows where he’s going. He has the nerd sense, or whatever it is, and can navigate ExcelsiCon despite never having been here before. I trail him like his shadow. I don’t even try to remember where we are, what hotel we’re in or what part of the convention center we’re wandering through. It all looks the same. Bland hallways and people dressed up as characters and long lines and meet-and-greets.

We take an elevator up a few floors and step out into another long empty hallway. At the end, waiting patiently, is Dare. He’s snacking on some sort of protein bar. Since filming for the sequel starts next month, he’s back on his dreaded diet, which means he’s just a little bit cranky and scowling at salads most of the time.

He sees us and waves.

“So, you get that whole thing sorted out?” he asks, inhaling the rest of his protein bar and tossing the wrapper in a trash can.

“Yeah,” I reply. “Thanks for distracting Calvin and Felix.”

“I figured it hadn’t been planned. She looked scared to death up there. Who was she?”

“I think she’s an exhibitor—at least, judging by her badge,” Ethan says.

I roll my eyes. “She didn’t look very scared when she went on that whole Amara tirade.”

Dare shrugs. “She’s probably part of the Save Amara initiative.”

“Ugh, they’re everywhere.” I scowl.

The double doors swing open, and a woman in a Captain Marvel T-shirt greets us with a wide, plastic smile. “Oh, good! Darien, Jess, my name’s Heather.” She extends a hand for us to shake. “Thank you so much for taking the time out of your busy schedules. I’ll be interviewing you for the next thirty minutes. Shall we?” She gestures back into the room, where I see a makeshift interview set, complete with photo lights, a green-screen backdrop, an ExcelsiCon banner, and three chairs. An expensive-looking camera on a tripod is off to the side, a cameraman in black standing behind it.

Ethan pulls out his phone and says, “I’ll be out here catching Pokémon,” and then wanders toward the elevators.

Nerd.

AFTER THE INTERVIEW, AS I FOLLOW con security across the skybridge to my hotel, I realize I’m still holding the package from Amon as I enter the hotel. Our secret, he called it. Must be the contract for the next movie, where I’ll be relegated to melodramatic flashbacks. Or maybe it’s panel questions for tomorrow, because that girl royally screwed me with her surprise performance.

Whatever it is, I’m furious that I even have it.