Cora took a long second to realize that it was over. “Thank you.”

“And cut!”

A sound person came to collect her microphone, but no one else— no producers, no Sol, no U.S. government descending to throw her in jail for violating her clearance, which she probably had on some technicality. Just a sound guy asking her to unhook her lavalier microphone. After she did, she stumbled out of her studio and back into the main hallway.

“Hey!” She turned around to see Miranda, worming the lavalier mic out of his shirt and handing it to the sound guy who had taken Cora’s. He had been in the studio adjacent to hers. “That was fun!”

“Fun?” she said, realizing that he did not consider this life-or-death like she did.

“Yeah,” said Miranda. “Honestly, I’ve debated some feds before, normally dry as hell.”

“Have I changed your mind?”

Miranda chuckled like she’d told a bad joke and he was humoring her. “I mean, we weren’t really here to change each other’s minds, were we?”

She restrained the urge to frown. Yes, actually. Yes, she was here to change this man’s mind.

“I get that you can’t really talk about specifics, but I can see that you care a lot about this. I do mean it, I really don’t advocate for seeing them as lesser.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Hey!” She nearly melted from relief at Kaveh’s voice. He stopped alongside her, shook Miranda’s hand. “Hey, dude, good show.”

“Thanks, man,” said Miranda. “Are you covering the rally downtown tomorrow?”

Kaveh’s expression blanked. “Oh! I forgot that tomorrow was Saturday.”

“We organized a Third Party rally a few weeks ago,” Miranda explained to Cora as if they were on the same side. “Events of the last few days have led to a lot of interest, so we’re looking at a crowd in the thousands. Senator Julian might be there, and also Tom DeLonge.”

“Who?” asked Kaveh.

“The lead singer of Blink-182.”

Cora laughed. “Is he going to run through the crowd wearing nothing but sneakers?”

Miranda almost looked offended, like it was 1999 and the lead singer of Blink-182 was a get that she just didn’t appreciate. “Surprised you aren’t covering it,” said Miranda to Kaveh.

“Well, I might,” said Kaveh, squeezing Cora on the shoulder. “Good luck, dude.”

“Good to see you.”

Kaveh moved his hand to the small of Cora’s back, ushering her toward the exit of the studio, and she melted a little more. He leaned over to her and whispered. “You kicked ass!”

“Really?”

“Yes! Not going to lie, I was about to swallow my tongue when he asked you to describe his personality and you kind of blanked, but then you came back, oh, man. You did way better than I did my first time on TV. This shit is hard!” He stopped to face her. “Do you hug?”

“Yes, I hug.”