“I’m a risk taker,” Tristan said. Byron could feel his brother’s face stretch in a smile. “And I think I’d be a good salesman.”

I’m not a risk taker.

“I get that impression,” Mr. Vaughn said, smiling back at Tristan with something resembling a twinkle in his eye. “It’s why we’re so willing to reach out here, if you’ll excuse the pun. Costume, starting salary, branding push. You hit all the marks and then some.”

“Marks?” Papa asked.

Tristan shifted, almost as if he was uncomfortable with their papa’s participation in the conversation.

“He’s the right age to match the others. He’s hip, attractive, he has a background in drama, good presentation, and a visually interesting power. Byron brings a different attitude, good academics, and their interplay is an interesting twist on an established formula.”

Damned with faint praise.

I don’t want to do this.

“I’m excited to do this,” Tristan said.

“We need to consider Byron,” Papa said. “Don’t jump to making a decision, okay?”

“Of course,” Tristan said. “I think he’ll be down for it.”

I’m not down for this, but you saying that makes it harder to say no.

I’m still going to say no.

“Let’s hope,” Mr. Vaughn said. “He can hear me, right?”

“He can,” Tristan said.

“We draw big money. We pay it forward. The PRT labs are very good, but every cape under their umbrella needs power testing at one point or another. It’s in their requirements.” Mr Vaughn leaned forward. “Byron, with the contacts we can provide and the money we can pay you, we can give you more help, and you won’t spend years in a queue after getting your requisite, everyday power testing appointment.”

Years. It was horrible to think about. A month had been hell.

He hated to admit it, but just the fact that Mr. Vaughn had said his name, addressing him directly, it meant so much. Only his parents really did it when Tristan was out there. Yet when the tables were turned, he didn’t miss that Tristan was so often addressed directly, with the odd person speaking right past Byron.

But he wanted to say no.

“Come, I’ll show you the facilities,” Mr. Vaughn said.

They all stood. Mr. Vaughn walked around his glass desk, opening the door to let them out into the main offices of Reach.

“We should let Byron out,” their papa said. “He needs a say.”

“After? Please?” Tristan asked. “He had all yesterday. I’ve barely had today, and I spent a lot of it in the car. I’m so restless.”

Byron was left to wonder why he had such a horrible sinking feeling at that.

“Okay,” their papa said. “But he gets a say when we’re done the tour, after you’ve stretched.”