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Going up.
“She was cool,” Xander tells me. “Humble. Sweet. I can see why you like her.” His mask still shrouds his face and obscures his amber eyes.
“Can you really see out of that?” I ask.
“Yeah, it’s better than the Iron Man helmet and spandex Spider-Man mask.” He has cosplayed many fictional characters over the years. Even more than me.
We reach a hallway where attendees gather on the carpeted floor with merch bags. Looking sweaty and winded from running around the conference center all day, most either nap or eat pork bao buns from the Con’s food truck.
“To the writer’s panel?” I ask Xander, checking the schedule in the hallway.
“I’m down,” he says.
“Wait,” Donnelly interjects, extending a hand to us to stay put.
What’s going on?
Frog sets a hand on my arm, silently telling me to remain here too, and Quinn has a finger to his earpiece. A look of concentration shared among the three of them, but Donnelly is the one with his phone out.
I’d say Xander and I share a glance of concern, but I can’t see his face. In the hall, we’re near a silver, black-and-blue balloon arch with huge three-dimensional cardboard letters underneath, which spell out Beneath a Strong Sentiment. It’s the perfect Instagrammable background, but thankfully no one is trying to snap pics.
Xander whispers to me, “What do you think’s going on?” His breath has quickened.
“Maybe a famous actor showed up.” Just as I say it, my phone rings, and my heart lurches to my throat. Oh no.
It’s Moffy.
Donnelly being on his phone is making more sense. We’re in San Francisco. I think they might be out of comms range, and if something bad is happening in Philly, our bodyguards wouldn’t hear through the radio.
I put the phone to my ear. “Moffy?”
“Luna,” Moffy says a little out of breath.
“It’s Moffy?” Xander whispers, worried. “What’s he saying?”
I can’t exactly put our older brother on speakerphone in public. I just ask him, “What’s up?”
“I just wanted to let you both know…” Moffy starts telling us.
“What is it?” Xander asks, and without thinking, he flips the mask to the top of his damp hair. Flushed and sweaty faced, he instantly becomes a beacon to every young girl in the hallway.
A girl gasps, “That’s Xander Hale.”
“XANDER HALE!” another screams.
His expressive amber eyes grow wide. “Fuck.”
“Oh my God, I think that’s Luna Hale too!”
I take his hand, ready to fight off the crowds. But our bodyguards are so incredibly quick. No time to think or move on my own accord. Frog and Quinn are ushering me to the nearest exit, and Donnelly leads Xander in the same path. My brother quickly slides the mask back on, even if it’s too late.
“Wait, Xander!”
“XANDER!”
I glance back to see overwhelmed attendees shedding tears and snapping photos of my brother.
Frog thrusts open the double doors of the emergency exit. “Luna?”
“I have her,” Quinn says, his hand on my shoulder, easing me forward. I just now notice how Donnelly twists back to check on me. I wonder how much he’s been doing that this trip.
My heart flutters in a strange pattern. How often did he check on Original Luna? Was he always attentive? Was he always here, looking out for her?
I want to know so badly, but not from anyone but her. Accio, my memories! I’ve already tried every conjuring spell from multiple fictional works, and my mediocre magical abilities aren’t saving the day.
Would Mom be sad knowing she birthed a muggle?
Xander and I are led to a security SUV in the parking lot. We’re fast enough that no one chases us, and I hurriedly climb into the backseat beside my brother. Our bodyguards remain outside the vehicle, talking between themselves in a serious conversation.
Xander rips off his mask, eyeing me consolingly. “I’m sorry I fucked it up,” he whispers sadly.
My brows bunch. “You could never fuck it up.”
He slams his head back against the headrest. “I fucking hate my life.”
My heart clenches. Sometimes I felt suffocated from the fame, from needing bodyguards, from being a teenager and not on my own yet—but I never felt as trapped as my brother.
Silently, I place my hand on his hand, which rests on the leather seat. Xander looks down, his breath slowing. There could’ve been an alternate universe in which I woke up, and my brother wasn’t alive. It was plausible. I know that. I feared that.
His gaze lifts to mine.
“I’m just happy you’re here,” I whisper.
Xander’s eyes glass with tears as he nods. “I’m happy you are too, Luna.” I reach over, and my brother hugs me the same time I hug him.
My phone falls between us.
Shit! Moffy…
I hurry and put the call on speakerphone. “Moffy? Are you still there?”
“Yeah, is everything okay?” Worry is tattooed to his voice. “Farrow says you guys got spotted.”
Huh, the bodyguard hotline works in mysterious quick ways.
