We land at the Philadelphia Airport a little more than three hours later, sore from the TSA’s poking and prodding. I swear, the mortals’ stupid security systems are even more obnoxious than the entire damn Dynasty. But whatever makes them feel safer, I guess. The drive to our new, temporary home base is only about a half an hour. Briella is entirely silent the whole way. All I can hear is the rustling of her scarf brushing against her shirt. I lean as far away from her as I can without seeming rude, so that I end up essentially sitting on Montero’s lap with his arm wrapped around my shoulders.